lull 


X      /  C^X  V^2-< 


' 


•BEE!  DEAR,  DEAR  BEE!'   HE  SAID,  PUTTING  His 
ARMS  AROUND  HER." 

— Frontispiece.     Page  490. 


SELF-RAISED 


FROM     THE     DEPTHS 


BY 


MRS.     E.    D.    E.    N.    SOUTHWORTH 

Author  of  "Ishmael,"  "The  Hidden  Hand," 
"The  Changed  Brides,"  etc.,  etc.,  etc. 


GROSSET       &       DUNLAP 
PUBLISHERS    :    NEW    YORK 


PS 


CONTENTS 


GttAPTEH  PAQE 

I.  RECOVERY,         •       ••••••.! 

II.  HERMAN  AND  ISHMAEL,    ......       7 

III.  FATHER  AND  SON,     ....,,.      12 

IV.  BEE .21 

V.    SECOND  LOVE, ...31 

VI.    AT  WOODSIDE, .      37 

VII.  AT  TANGLE  WOOD,      .......      47 

VIII.    WHY  CLAUDIA  WAS  ALONE, 52 

IX.    HOLIDAY,  *       ,       .      58 

X.  ISHMAEL  AT  BRTTDENELL,             .          »          .          .          .        63 

XI.  THE  PROFESSOR  OP  ODD  JOBS,        .        .       .        •      66 

XII.    THE  JOURNEY, 73 

XIII.  LADY  VINCENT'S  RECEPTION,  ....      83 

XIV.  ROMANCE  AND  REALITY,  .....      92 
XV.  CASTLE  CRAGG,          .       .       .       .       .       .       .104 

XVI.    FAUSTINA, 108 

XVII.  THE  PLOT  AGAINST  CLAUDIA,          .       .       .       .112 

XVIII.    IN  THE  TRAITOR'S  TOILS, 121 

XIX.  CLAUDIA'S  TROUBLES  AND  PERILS,          .       .       .129 

XX.    A  LINK  IN  CLAUDIA'S  FATE, 136 

XXI.  NEWS  FOR  ISHMAEL,          ......    148 

XXII.  ISHMAEL'S  VISIT  TO  BEE,          .       .       «       .       .    157 

XXIII.  HANNAH'S  HAPPY  PROGNOSTICS,       .       .       .       .16. 

XXIV.  THE  JOURNEY, 1.3 

XXV.    THE  VOYAGE, 182 

XXVI.    THE  STORM 188 

XXVII.    THE  WRECK 195 

KXVIII.  A  DISCOVERY,    ...       f       ....    206 

XXIX.  A  DEEP  ONE,    ...       i       ....    217 

XXX.  A  NIGHT  OF  HORROR,       .       .               ...    225 

XXXI.    THE  CASTLE  VAULT 241 

XXXII.    THE  END  OF  CLAUDIA'S  PRIDE 261 

m 


Iv 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  PASB 

XXXIII.  THE  COUNTESS  OP  HURSTMONCEUX,        ,  .    259 

XXXIV.  THE  RESCUE .278 

XXXV.  A  FATIIEU'B  VENGEANCE,         .       •       •       •       .    283 

XXXVI.  ON  THE  VISCOUNT'S  TRACK,     .....    296 

XXXVII.     STILL  ON  THE  TRACK 306 

XXXVIII.  CLAUDIA  AT  CAMERON  COURT,         .       .       .       .817 

XXXIX.    SUSPENSE 327 

XL.    FATHER  AND  DAUGHTER, 333 

XLI.  ARUKST  OF  LORD  VINCENT  AND  FAUSTINA,   .        .    845 

XLII.     A  BITTER  NIGHT, .357 

XLIII.  FUUITS  OF  CRIME,     .......    367 

XLIV.     NEMESIS 378 

XLV.    THE  VISCOUNT'S  FALL 392 

XLVI.  THE  FATE  OF  THE  VISCOUNT,          •       .        .        .    899 

XLVII.  THE  EXECUTION,        .......    410 

XLVIII.  NEWS  FOR  CLAUDIA,         ......    419 

XLIX.    THE  FATE  OF  FAUSTINA 483 

L.  LADY  HURSTMONCEUX'S  REVELATION,      .       .       .    489 

LI.  ISHMAEL'S  ERRAND,           ......    449 

LII.  THE  MEETING  OF  THE  SEVERED  PAIR,  .       .       .    466 

LIII.    HOME  AGAIN, 475 

LIV.    WHICH  is  THE  BRIDE? 486 

LV  CONCLUSION,      .«....••*  49A 


SELF-RAISED; 

OK, 

"FROM  THE  DEPTHS" 


CHAPTER  I. 

RECOVERY. 

Something  I  know.    Oft,  shall  it  come  about 

When  every  heart  is  full  of  hope  for  man, 
The  horizon  straight  is  darkened,  and  a  doubt 

Clouds  all.    The  work  the  youth  so  well  began 
Wastes  down,  and  by  some  deed  of  shame  is  finished. 

Ah,  yet  we  will  not  be  dismayed: 
What  seemed  the  triumph  of  the  Fiend  at  length 

Might  be  the  effort  of  some  dying  devil, 
Permitted  to  put  forth  his  fullest  strength 

To  loose  it  all  forever  1 

— Owen  Meredith. 

Awful  as  the  anguish  of  his  parting  with  Claudia  had  been,  it 
was  not  likely  that  Ishmael,  with  his  strength  of  intellect  and 
will,  would  long  succumb  to  despair.  It  was  not  in  Claudia's 
power  to  make  his  life  quite  desolate;  how  could  it  be  so  while 
Bee  cared  for  him? 

Bee  had  loved  Ishmael  as  long  as  Ishmael  had  loved  Claudia. 
She  had  loved  him  when  he  was  a  boy  at  school;  when  he  was  a 
young  country  teacher;  when  he  was  a  law-student;  and  she 
loved  him  now  that  he  was  a  successful  barrister.  This  love, 
founded  in  esteem  and  honor,  had  constantly  deepened  and 
strengthened.  In  loving  Ishmael,  she  found  mental  and  spirit 
ual  development;  and  in  being  near  him  and  doing  him  good 
she  found  comfort  and  happiness.  And  being  perfectly  satis 
fied  with  the  present,  Bee  never  gave  a  thought  to  the  future. 
That  she  tacitly  left,  where  it  belongs,  to  God. 

Or  if  at  times,  on  perceiving  Tshmael's  utter  obliviousness 
of  her  own  kindly  presence  and  his  perfect  devotion  to  the 


2  SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

thankless  Claudia,  Bee  felt  a  pang,  she  went  and  buried  herself 
with  domestic  duties,  or  played  with  the  children  in  the  nursery, 
or  what  was  better  still,  if  it  happened  to  be  little  Lu's  "  sleepy 
time"  she  would  take  her  baby-sister  up  to  her  own  room,  sit 
down  and  fold  her  to  her  breast  and  rock  and  sing  her  to  sleep. 
And  certainly  the  clasp  of  those  baby-arms  about  her  neck,  and 
the  nestling  of  that  baby-form  to  her  bosom,  drew  out  all  the 
heart-ache  and  soothed  all  the  agitation. 

Except  these  little  occasional  pangs  Bee  had  always  been 
blessed  in  loving.  Her  love,  all  unrequited,  as  it  seemed,  was 
still  the  sweetest  thing  in  the  world  to  her ;  and  it  seemed  thus, 
because  in  fact  it  was  so  well  approved  by  her  mind  and  so 
entirely  unselfish.  It  seemed  to  be  her  life,  or  her  soul,  or  one 
with  both;  Bee  was  not  metaphysical  enough  to  decide  which. 

She  would  not  struggle  with  this  love,  or  try  to  conquer  it, 
any  more  than  she  would  have  striven  against  and  tried  to 
destroy  her  mental  and  spiritual  life.  On  the  contrary  she 
cherished  it  as  she  did  her  religion,  of  which  it  was  a  part; 
she  cherished  it  as  she  did  her  love  of  God,  with  which  it  was 
united. 

And  loving  Ishmael  in  this  way,  if  she  should  fail  to  marry 
him,  Bee  resolved  never  to  marry  another;  but  to  live  and  die 
a  maiden;  still  cherishing,  still  hiding  this  most  precious  love 
in  her  heart  as  a  miser  hides  his  gold.  Whether  benign  nature 
would  have  permitted  the  motherly  little  maiden  to  have  carried 
out  this  resolution,  I  do  not  know;  or  what  Bee  would  have 
done  in  the  event  of  Ishmael's  marrying  another,  she  did  not 
know. 

When  Claudia  went  away,  Bee,  in  the  midst  of  her  regret 
at  parting  with  her  cousin,  felt  a  certain  sense  of  relief:  but, 
when  she  saw  the  effect  of  that  departure  upon  Ishmael  she 
became  alarmed  for  him;  and  after  the  terrible  experiences  of 
that  day  and  night  Bee's  one  single  thought  in  life  was — Ish 
mael's  good. 

On  the  morning  succeeding  that  dreadful  day  and  night, 
Ishmael  awoke  early,  in  full  possession  of  his  faculties.  He  re 
membered  all  the  incidents  of  that  trying  day  and  night; 
reflected  upon  their  effects;  and  prayed  to  God  to  deliver  him 
from  the  burden  and  guilt  of  inordinate  and  sinful  affections. 

Then  he  arose,  made  his  toilet,  read  a  portion  of  the  Scrip 
tures,  offered  up  his  morning  prayers,  and  went  below  stairs. 

In  the  breakfast  parlor  he  found  Bee,  the  busy  little  house- 


EECOVEEY.  3 

keeper,  fluttering  softly  around  the  breakfast  table,  and  adding 
a  few  finishing  touches  to  its  simple  elegance. 

Very  fair,  fresh,  and  blooming  looked  Bee  in  her  pale  golden 
ringlets  and  her  pretty  morning  dress  of  white  muslin  with 
blue  ribbons.  There  was  no  one  else  in  the  room;  but  Bee 
advanced  and  held  out  her  hand  to  him. 

He  took  her  hand,  and  retaining  it  in  his  own  for  a  moment, 
said: 

"  Oh,  Bee !  yesterday,  last  night!  " 

"  '  Upbraid  not  the  past ;  it  comes  not  back  again.'  Ishmael ! 
bury  it ;  forget  it ;  and  press  onward ! "  replied  Bee  sweetly  and 
solemnly. 

He  raised  her  hand  with  the  impulse  to  carry  it  to  his  lips; 
but  refraining,  bowed  his  forehead  over  it  instead,  and  then 
gently  released  it.  For  Ishmael's  affection  for  Bee  was  rever 
ential.  To  him  she  appeared  saintly,  Madonna-like,  almost 
angelic. 

"  Let  me  make  breakf ast  for  you  at  once,  Ishmael.  It  is  not 
of  the  least  use  to  wait  for  the  others.  Mamma,  I  know,  is 
not  awake  yet,  and  none  of  the  gentlemen  have  rung  for  their 
hot  water." 

"And  you,  Bee;  you  will  also  breakfast  now?" 

"  Certainly." 

And  she  rang  and  gave  her  orders.  And  the  coffee,  muffins, 
fried  fresh  perch,  and  broiled  spring  chickens  speedily  made 
their  appearance. 

"  Jim,"  she  said  to  the  waiter  who  set  the  breakfast  on  the 
table,  "  tell  cook  to  keep  some  of  the  perch  and  pullets  dressed 
to  put  over  the  fire  the  moment  she  hears  the  judge's  bell  ring, 
so  that  his  breakfast  may  be  ready  for  him  when  he  comes 
down." 

"  Very  well,  miss,"  answered  Jim,  who  immediately  left  the 
room  to  give  the  order;  but  soon  returned  to  attend  upon  the 
table. 

So  it  was  a  tete-a-tete  meal,  but  Bee  made  it  very  pleasant. 
After  breakfast  Ishmael  left  Bee  to  her  domestic  duties  and 
went  up  into  the  office  to  look  after  the  letters  and  papers  that 
had  been  left  for  him  by  the  penny  postman  that  morning. 

He  glanced  over  the  newspapers;  read  the  letters;  selected 
those  he  would  need  during  the  day;  put  the  others  carefully 
away;  tied  up  his  documents;  took  up  his  hat  and  gloves,  and 
fiet  out  for  his  daily  business  at  the  City  HalL 


4  SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

In  the  ante-chamber  of  the  Orphans'  Court  Room  ho  met 
old  Wiseman,  who  clapped  him  on  the  shoulder,  exclaiming: 

"  How  are  you  this  morning,  old  fellow  ?    All  right,  eh  ?  " 

"Thank  you,  I  am  quite  well  again,"  replied  Ishmael. 

"  Ah  ha !  nothing  like  good  brandy  to  get  one  up  out  of  a  fit  of 
exhaustion." 

"Ah ! "  exclaimed  Ishmael,  with  a  shudder. 

"Well,  and  have  you  thought  over  what  we  were  talking 
of  yesterday  ? " 

"It  was "  Ishmael  began,  and  then  hesitated. 

"  It  was  about  your  going  into  partnership  with  me." 

"  Oh,  yes !  so  it  was !  but  I  have  not  had  time  to  think  of  it 
yet." 

"Well,  think  over  it  to-day,  will  you,  and  then  after  the 
court  has  adjourned  come  to  my  chambers  and  talk  the  matter 
over  with  me.  Will  you  ?  " 

"  Thank  you,  yes,  certainly." 

"Ah,  well!  I  will  not  keep  you  any  longer,  for  I  see  that 
you  are  in  a  hurry." 

"It  is  because  I  have  an  appointment  at  ten,"  said  Ishmael 
courteously. 

"  Certainly ;  and  appointments  must  be  kept.  Good- 
morning." 

"  Good-morning,  Mr.  Wiseman." 

"  Mind,  you  are  to  come  to  my  chambers  after  the  court  has 
adjourned." 

"  I  will  remember  and  come,"  said  Ishmael. 

And  each  went  his  way. 

Ishmael  had  not  yet  seriously  thought  of  Lawyer  Wiseman's 
proposal.  This  forenoon,  however,  in  the  intervals  of  his  pro 
fessional  business,  he  reflected  on  it. 

The  proposed  partnership  was  unquestionably  a  highly  ad 
vantageous  one,  in  a  worldly  point  of  view.  Lawyer  Wiseman 
was  undoubtedly  the  best  lawyer  and  commanded  the  largest 
practice  at  the  Washington  bar,  with  one  single  exception — 
that  of  the  brilliant  young  barrister  whom  he  proposed  to  asso 
ciate  with  himself.  Together,  they  would  be  invincible,  carry 
ing  everything  before  them;  and  Ishmael's  fortune  would  be 
rapidly  made. 

So  far  the  offer  was  a  very  tempting  one;  yet  the  more  Ish 
mael  reflected  on  it  the  more  determined  he  became  to  re 
fuse  it;  because,  in  fact,  his  conscience  would  not  permit  him 


EECOVERT.  5 

to  enter  into  partnership  with  Lawyer  Wiseman,  for  the  fol« 
lowing  reasons :  Lawyer  Wiseman,  a  man  of  unimpeachable 
integrity  in  his  private  life,  declined  to  carry  moral  responsi 
bility  into  his  professional  business.  He  was  indiscriminate  in 
his  acceptation  of  briefs.  It  mattered  not  whether  the  case 
presented  to  him  was  a  case  of  injustice,  cruelty,  or  oppression, 
so  that  it  was  a  case  for  law,  with  a  wealthy  client  to  back  it. 
The  only  question  with  Lawyer  Wiseman  being  the  amount  of 
the  retaining  fee.  If  his  client  liberally  anointed  Lawyer 
Wisemen's  eyes  with  golden  ointment,  Lawyer  Wiseman  would 
undertake  to  see  and  make  the  judge  and  jury  see  anything 
and  everything  that  his  client  wished!  With  such  a  man  as 
this,  therefore,  whatever  the  professional  advantages  of  the 
association  might  be,  Ishmael  could  not  enter  into  partnership. 

And  so  when  the  court  had  adjourned  Ishmael  walked  over 
to  the  chambers  of  Mr.  Wiseman  on  Louisiana  Avenue,  and  ia 
an  interview  with  the  old  lawyer  courteously  declined  his  offer. 

This  considerably  astonished  Mr.  Wiseman,  who  pressed 
Ishmael  for  the  reasons  of  his  strange  refusal. 

And  Ishmael,  being  urged,  at  length  candidly  confessed 
them. 

Instead  of  being  angry,  as  might  have  been  expected,  the 
old  lawyer  was  simply  amused.  He  laughed  at  his  young 
friend's  scruples,  and  assured  him  that  experience  would  cure 
them.  And  the  interview  having  been  brought  to  a  close,  they 
shook  hands  and  parted  amicably. 

Ishmael  hurried  home  to  dine  and  spend  the  evening  with 
the  family. 

On  the  Monday  following,  at  the  order  of  Judge  Merlin,  prep 
arations  were  commenced  for  shutting  up  the  town  house  and 
leaving  Washington  for  Tanglewood;  for  the  judge  swore  that, 
let  anyone  whatever  get  married,  or  christened,  stay  in  the  city 
another  week  he  could  not,  without  decomposing,  for  that  his 
soul  had  already  left  his  body  and  preceded  him  to  Tangle- 
wood,  whither  he  must  immediately  follow  it. 

Oh,  but  Bee  had  plenty  of  work  to  look  after  that  week — 
the  packing  up  of  all  the  children's  clothes,  and  of  all  the  house 
hold  effects — such  as  silver  plate,  cut-glass,  fine  china,  cutlery, 
etc.,  that  were  to  be  sent  forward  to  Tanglewood. 

She  would  have  had  to  overlook  the  packing  of  the  books 
also,  but  that  Ishmael  insisted  on  relieving  her  of  that  task,  by 
doing  it  all  with  his  own  hands,  as  indeed  he  preferred  to  do  it, 


8  SELF-RAISED  J    OR,    FROM    THE   DEPTHS. 

for  his  love  of  books  was  almost — tender.  It  was  curious  to 
see  him  carefully  straighten  the  leaves  and  brush  the  cover 
and  edges  of  an  old  book,  as  conscientiously  as  he  would  have 
doctored  a  hurt  child.  They  were  friends  and  he  was  fond  of 
them. 

Ishmael  continued  steadily  in  the  performance  of  all  his 
duties,  yet  that  he  was  still  suffering  very  much  might  be  ob 
served  in  the  abiding  paleness  and  wasting  thinness  of  his 
face,  and  in  a  certain  languor  and  weariness  in  all  his  move 
ments. 

Bee  in  the  midst  of  her  multifarious  cares  did  not  forget 
his  interests;  she  took  pains  to  have  his  favorite  dishes  appear 
on  the  table  in  order  to  tempt  him  to  take  food.  But,  observing 
that  he  still  ate  little  or  nothing,  while  he  daily  lost  flesh,  she 
took  an  opportunity  of  saying  to  him  in  the  library: 

"  Ishmael,  you  know  I  am  a  right  good  little  doctress ;  I 
have  had  so  much  experience  in  nursing  father  and  mother  and 
the  children;  so  I  know  what  I  am  talking  about,  when  I 
tell  you  that  you  need  a  tonic." 

"  Oh,  Bee !  if  you  did  but  really  know,  little  sister ! " 

"  I  do  know,  Ishmael,  I  know  it  all  1 "  she  said   gently. 

" '  Out  of  the  heart  are  the  issues  of  life ! '  Bee,  mine  has 
received  a  paralyzing  blow." 

"  I  know  it,  dear  Ishmael ;  I  know  it ;  but  let  your  great  mind 
sustain  that  stricken  heart  until  it  recovers  the  blow.  And  in 
the  meantime  try  to  get  up  your  strength.  You  must  have  more 
food  and  more  rest,  and  in  order  to  secure  them  you  must  take 
a  tonic  in  the  morning  to  give  you  an  appetite,  and  a  sedative 
at  night  to  give  you  sleep.  That  was  the  way  we  saved  mamma 
after  little  Mary  died,  or,  indeed,  I  think  she  would  have  fol 
lowed  her." 

Ishmael  smiled  a  very  wan  smile  as  he  answered : 
•     "  Indeed,  I  am  ashamed  of  this  utter  weakness,  Bee." 

"Why  should  you  be?  Has  Providence  given  you  any  im 
munity  from  the  common  lot?  We  must  take  our  human  nature 
as  it  is  given  to  us  and  do  the  best  we  can  with  it,  I  think." 

"  What  a  wise  little  woman  you  are,  Bee." 

"  That's  because  I  have  got  a  good  memory.  The  wisdom 
was  second-handed,  Ishmael,  being  just  what  I  heard  you  your 
self  say  when  you  were  defending  Featherstonehaugh : 

"  '  There'w  nothing  original  in  me 
Excepting  original  sin.' " 


HERMAN   AND   ISHMAEL.  7 

Ishmael  smiled. 

"  And,  now,  will  you  follow  my  advice  ? " 

"  To  the  letter,  dear  Bee,  whenever  you  are  so  good  as  to  ad 
vise  me.  Ah,  Bee,  you  seem  to  comprise  in  yourself  all  that 
that  I  have  missed  of  family  affection,  and  to  compensate  me 
for  the  unknown  love  of  her  mother,  sister,  friend." 

"Do  I,  Ishmael?  Oh,  I  wish  that  I  really  did!"  said  Bee 
impulsively;  and  then  she  blushed  deeply  at  suddenly  appre 
hending  the  construction  that  might  be  put  upon  her  words. 

But  Ishmael  answered  those  words  in  the  spirit  in  which 
they  were  uttered : 

"  Believe  me,  dearest  Bee,  you  do.  If  I  never  feel  the  want 
of  home  affections  it  is  because  I  have  them  all  in  you.  My 
heart  finds  rest  in  you,  Bee.  But  oh,  little  sister,  what  can  I 
ever  render  to  you  for  all  the  good  you  have  done  me  from  my 
childhood  up  ? " 

"Render  yourself  good  and  wise  and  great,  Ishmael,  and  I 
shall  be  sufficiently  happy  in  watching  your  upward  progress," 
said  Bee. 

And  quietly  putting  down  on  the  table  a  bunch  of  grapes  that 
she  had  brought,  she  withdrew  from  the  office. 


CHAPTER  H. 

HERMAN  AND    ISHMAEL. 

With  a  deep  groan  he  cried — "  Oh,  gifted  one, 
I  am  thy  father!    Hate  me  not,  my  son! " 

— Anon. 

Nor  are  my  mother's  wrongs  forgot; 
Her  slighted  love  and  ruined  name, 
Her  offspring's  heritage  of  shame, 
Shall  witness  for  thee  from  the  dead 
How  trusty  and  how  tender  were 
Thy  youthful  love — paternal  care! 

— Byron. 

Her  exit  was  almost  immediately  followed  by  the  entrance  of 
Mr.  Brudenell.  He  also  had  noticed  Ishmael's  condition,  and 
attributed  it  to  overwork,  and  to  the  want  of  rest,  with  change 
of  air.  He  was  preparing  to  leave  Washington  for  Brudenell 
Hall.  He  was  going  a  few  days  in  advance  of  Judge  Merlin 


8  SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROJI  THE  DEPTHS. 

and  the  Middletons,  and  he  intended  to  invite  Ishmael  to  ac 
company  him,  or  to  come  after  him,  and  make  a  visit  to  Bru- 
denell.  He  earnestly  desired  to  have  Ishmael  there  to  himself 
for  a  week  or  two.  It  was  with  this  desire  that  he  now  entered 
the  library. 

Ishmael  arose  from  his  packing,  and,  smiling  a  welcome,  set  a 
chair  for  his  visitor. 

"You  are  not  looking  well,  Mr.  Worth,"  said  Herman  Bru- 
denell,  as  he  took  the  offered  seat. 

"  I  am  not  well  just  at  present,  but  I  shall  be  so  in  a  day  or 
two,"  returned  Ishmael. 

"Not  if  you  continue  the  course  you  are  pursuing  now,  my 
young  friend.  You  require  rest  and  change  of  air.  I  shall 
leave  Washington  for  Brudenell  Hall  on  Thursday  morning. 
It  would  give  me  great  pleasure  if  you  would  accompany  me 
thither,  and  remain  my  guest  for  a  few  weeks,  to  recruit 
your  health.  The  place  is  noted  for  its  salubrity;  and  though 
the  house  has  been  dismantled,  and  has  remained  vacant  for 
some  time,  yet  I  hope  we  will  find  it  fitted  up  comfortably 
again ;  for  I  have  written  down  to  an  upholsterer  of  Baymouth 
to  send  in  some  furniture,  and  I  have  also  written  to  a  certain 
genius  of  all  trades,  called  the  'professor,'  to  go  over  and  see 
it  all  arranged,  and  do  what  else  is  needed  to  be  done  for  our 
reception." 

Ishmael  smiled  when  he  heard  the  name  of  the  professor; 
but  before  he  could  make  any  comment,  Mr.  Brudenell  in 
quired  : 

"What  do  you  say,  Mr.  Worth?  Will  you  accompany  me 
thither,  or  will  you  come  after  me  ? " 

"  I  thank  you  very  much,  Mr.  Brudenell.  I  should  like  to 
visit  Brudenell  Hall;  but " 

"  Then  you  will  come  ?  I  am  very  glad !  I  shall  be  alone 
there  with  my  servants,  you  know,  and  your  society  will  be 
a  god-send  to  me.  Had  you  not  better  go  down  at  once  when 
I  do?  I  go  by  land,  in  a  hired  carriage.  The  carriage  is  very 
comfortable;  and  we  can  make  the  journey  in  two  days,  and 
lay  by  during  the  heat  of  both  days.  I  think  the  trip  will  be 
pleasant.  We  can  reach  Brudenell  Hall  on  Friday  night,  and 
have  a  good  rest  before  Sunday,  when  we  can  go  to  the  old 
country  church,  where  you  will  be  likely  to  meet  the  faces  of 
some  of  your  old  friends.  I  think  we  shall  be  very  comfortable, 
keeping  bachelor-hall  together  at  Brudenell  Hall  this  summer, 


HEKMAN   AND    ISHMAEL.  9 

Mr.  Worth,"  said  Herman  Brudenell,  who  longed  more  than 
tongue  could  tell  to  have  Nora's  son  at  home  with  him,  though 
it  might  be  only  for  a  short  time. 

"  I  feel  your  kindness  very  much  indeed,  Mr.  Brudenell :  and 
I  should  be  very,  very  happy  to  accept  your  hospitable  invita 
tion;  but — I  was  about  to  say,  it  really  is  quite  impossible 
in  the  existing  state  of  my  business  for  me  to  go  anywhere  at 
present,"  said  Ishmael  courteously. 

"  Indeed  ?  I  am  very  sorry  for  that.  But  the  reasons  you 
give  are  unanswerable,  I  know.  I  am  seriously  disappointed. 
Yet  I  trust,  though  you  may  not  be  able  to  come  just  at  pres 
ent,  you  will  follow  me  down  there  after  a  little  while — say  in 
the  course  of  a  few  days  or  weeks — for  I  shall  remain  at  the 
hall  all  summer  and  shall  be  always  delighted  to  receive  you. 
Will  you  promise  to  come  ? " 

"  Indeed,  I  fear  I  cannot  promise  that  either,  for  I  have  a 
very  great  pressure  of  business;  but  if  I  can  possibly  manage 
to  go,  without  infringing  upon  my  duties,  I  shall  be  grateful 
for  the  privilege  and  very  happy  to  avail  myself  of  it;  for — do 
you  know,  sir? — I  was  born  in  that  neighborhood  and  passed 
my  childhood  and  youth  there.  I  love  the  old  place,  and  almost 
long  to  see  the  old  hut  where  I  lived,  and  the  hall  where  I  went 
to  school,  and  the  wooded  valley  that  lies  between  them,  where 
I  gathered  wild-flowers  and  fruits  in  summer  and  nuts  in  win 
ter,  and — my  mother's  grave,"  said  the  unconscious  son,  speak 
ing  confidentially,  and  looking  straight  into  his  father's  eyes. 

"  Ishmael,"  said  Herman  Brudenell,  in  a  faltering  voice,  and 
forgetting  to  be  formal,  "you  must  come  to  me:  that  grave 
should  draw  you,  if  nothing  else;  it  is  a  pious  pilgrimage  when 
a  son  goes  to  visit  his  mother's  grave." 

There  was  something  in  this  new  friend's  words,  look,  and 
manner  that  always  drew  out  the  young  man's  confidence,  and 
he  said,  in  a  voice  trembling  with  emotion : 

"  She  died  young,  sir ;  and  oh !  so  sorrowfully !  She  was  only 
nineteen,  two  years  younger  than  I  am  now;  and  her  son  was 
motherless  the  hour  he  was  born." 

Violent  emotion  shook  the  frame  of  Herman  Brudenell.  He 
had  not  entered  the  room  with  any  intention  of  making  a  dis 
closure  to  Ishmael ;  but  he  felt  now  that — come  life,  come  death, 
come  whatever  might  of  it — he  must  claim  Nora's  son. 

"Ishmael,"  he  began,  in  a  voice  shaken  with  agitation,  "I 
knew  your  mother." 


10  SELF-RAISED,   OR,    FROM  THE   DEPTHS 

"  You,  sir !  "  exclaimed  the  young  man  in  surprise. 

"Yes,  I  knew  her  and  her  sister,  naturally,  for  they  were 
tenants  of  mine." 

"I  knew  that  they  lived  on  the  outskirts  of  the  Brudenell 
estate ;  but  I  did  not  know  you  were  personally  acquainted  with 
them,  sir;  for  I  thought  that  you  had  resided  generally  in 
Europe." 

"  Not  all  the  time ;  I  was  at  Brudenell  Hall  when — you  were 
born  and  your  mother  went  to  heaven,  Ishmael." 

Some  of  the  elder  man's  agitation  communicated  itself  to  the 
younger,  who  half  arose  from  his  seat  and  looked  intently  at 
the  speaker. 

"  1  knew  your  mother  in  those  days,  Ishmael.  She  was  not 
only  one  of  the  most  beautiful  women  of  her  day,  but  one  of 
the  purest,  noblest,  and  best." 

Herman  Brudenell  hesitated.  And  Ishmael,  who  had  dropped 
again  into  his  seat,  bent  eagerly  forward,  holding  his  breath 
while  he  listened. 

Herman  continued. 

"You  resemble  her  in  person  and  character,  Ishmael.  All 
that  is  best  and  noblest  and  most  attractive  in  you,  Ishmael, 
is  derived  under  Divine  Providence  from  your  mother." 

"  I  know  it !    Oh,  I  know  it !  " 

"  And,  Ishmael,  I  loved  your  mother !  " 

"  Oh,  Heaven !  "  breathed  the  young  man,  in  sickening,  deadly 
apprehension;  for  well  he  remembered  that  this  Mr.  Herman 
Brudenell  was  the  husband  of  the  Countess  of  Hurstmonceux 
at  the  very  time  of  which  he  now  spoke. 

"  Ishmael,  do  not  look  so  cruelly  distressed.  I  loved  her,  she 
loved  me  in  return,  she  crowned  my  days  with  joy,  and " 

A  gasping  sound  of  suddenly  suspended  breath  from  Ishmael. 

"I  made  her  my  wife,"  continued  Herman  Brudenell,  in  a 
grave  and  earnest  voice. 

"  It  was  you  then ! "  cried  Ishmael,  shaking  with  agitation. 

"It  was  I!" 

Silence  like  a  pall  fell  between  them. 

"  Oh,  Ishmael !  my  son !  my  son !  speak  to  me !  give  me  your 
hand ! "  groaned  Herman  Brudenell. 

"  She  was  your  wife !  Yet  she  died  of  want,  exposure,  and 
grief !  "  said  Nora's  son,  standing  pale  and  stony  before  him. 

"  And  I — live  with  a  breaking  heart !  a  harder  fate,  Ishmael. 
Since  her  death,  I  have  been  a  wifeless,  childless,  homeless 


HERMAN   AND   ISHMAEL.  11 

wanderer  over  the  wide  world!  Oh,  Ishmael!  my  son!  my  son! 
give  me  your  hand ! " 

"  I  am  your  mother's  son !  She  was  your  wife,  you  say ;  yet 
she  never  bore  your  name !  She  was  your  wife ;  yet  her  son 
and  yours  bears  her  maiden  name!  She  was  your  wife;  yet 
she  perished  miserably  in  her  early  youth;  and  undeserved  re 
proach  is  suffered  to  rest  upon  her  memory!  Oh,  sir!  if  indeed 
you  were  her  husband  and  my  father,  as  you  claim  to  be,  explain 
these  things  before  I  give  you  my  hand !  for  when  I  give  my 
hand,  honor  and  respect  must  go  with  it,"  said  Ishmael  in  a 
grave,  sweet,  earnest  tone. 

"  Is  it  possible  that  Hannah  has  never  told  you  ?  I  thought 
she  would  have  told  you  everything,  except  the  name  of  your 
father." 

"  She  told  me  everything  that  she  could  tell  without  violat 
ing  the  oath  of  secrecy  by  which  she  was  bound;  but  what  she 
told  me  was  not  satisfactory." 

"  Sit  down  then,  Ishmael,  sit  down ;  and  though  to  recall 
this  woeful  history  will  be  to  tear  open  old  wounds  afresh,  I 
will  do  so;  and  when  you  have  heard  it,  you  will  know  how 
blameless  we  both — your  mother  and  myself — really  were,  and 
how  deep  has  been  the  tragedy  of  my  life  as  well  as  hers — the 
difference  between  us  being  that  hers  is  a  dead  trouble,  from 
which  she  rests  eternally,  while  mine  is  a  living  and  life-long 
sorrow ! " 

Ishmael  again  dropped  into  his  chair  and  gave  undivided 
attention  to  the  speaker. 

And  Mr.  Brudenell,  after  a  short  pause,  commenced  and  gave 
a  narrative  of  his  own  eventful  life,  beginning  with  his  college 
days,  and  detailing  all  the  incidents  of  his  youthful  career 
until  it  culminated  in  the  dreadful  household  wreck  that  had 
killed  Nora,  exiled  his  family  and  blasted  his  own  happiness 
forever. 

Ishmael  listened  with  the  deepest  sympathy. 

It  was  indeed  the  tearing  open  of  old  wounds  in  Herman 
Brudenell's  breast ;  and  it  was  the  inflicting  of  new  ones  in  Ish- 
mael's  heart.  It  was  an  hour  of  unspeakable  distress  to  both. 
Herman  did  not  spare  himself  in  the  relation;  yet  in  the  end 
Ishmael  exculpated  his  father  from  all  blame.  We  know  indeed 
that  in  his  relations  with  Nora  he  was  blameless,  unless  his 
fatal  haste  could  be  called  a  fault.  And  so  for  his  long  neglect 
of  Ishmael,  which  really  was  a  great  sin,  and  the  greatest  he 


12  SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

had  ever  committed,  Ishmael  never  gave  a  thought  to  that, 
it  was  only  a  sin  against  himself,  and  Ishmael  was  not  selfish 
enough  to  feel  or  resent  it. 

Herman  Brudenell  ended  his  story  very  much  as  he  had  com 
menced  it. 

"  And  since  that  day  of  doom,  Ishmael,  I  have  been  a  lonely, 
homeless,  miserable  wanderer  over  the  wide  world!  The  fabled 
Wandering  Jew  not  more  wretched  than  I ! "  And  the  bowed 
head,  blanched  complexion,  and  quivering  features  bore  testi 
mony  to  his  words. 


CHAPTER  HI. 

FATHER  AND  SON. 

For  thongh  thon  work'st  my  mother  ill 
I  feel  thon  art  my  father  Btilll 

— Byron. 

Yet  what  no  chance  conld  then  reveal, 

And  no  one  would  be  first  to  own, 
Let  fate  and  courage  Btill  conceal, 

When  truth  could  bring  reproach  alone. 

— Mttnea. 

Tshmael  had  been  violently  shaken.  It  was  with  much  effort 
that  he  controlled  his  own  emotions  in  order  to  administer  con 
solation  to  one  who  was  suffering  even  more  than  he  himself 
was,  because  that  suffering  was  blended  with  ajnorbid  remorse. 

"  Father,"  he  said,  reaching  forth  his  hand  to  the  stricken 
man;  but  his  voice  failed  him. 

Herman  Brudenell  looked  up;  an  expression  of  earnest  love 
chasing  away  the  sorrow  from  his  face,  as  he  said: 

"Father?  Ah,  what  a  dear  name!  You  call  me  thus,  Ish 
mael  ?  Me,  who  worked  your  mother  so  much  woe  ? " 

"  Father,  it  was  your  great  misfortune,  not  your  fault ;  she 
said  it  on  her  death-bed,  and  the  words  of  the  dying  are  sacred," 
said  lahmael  earnestly,  and  caressing  the  pale,  thin  hand  that 
he  held. 

"  Oh,  Nora !  Oh,  Nora !  "  exclaimed  Herman,  as  all  his 
bosom's  wounds  bled  afresh. 

"Father,  do  not  grieve  so  bitterly;  and  after  all  these  years 
so  morbidly !  God  has  wiped  away  all  tears  from  her  eyes.  She 
has  been  a  saint  in  glory  these  many  years  I " 


FATHER    AND    SON.  13 

"You  try  to  comfort  me,  Ishmael.  You,  Nora's  son?"  ex« 
claimed  Herman,  with  increased  emotion. 

"  Who  else  of  all  the  world  should  comfort  you  but  Nora'a 
eon?" 

"  You  love  me,  then,  a  little,  Ishmael  ?  " 

"  She  loved  you,  my  father,  and  why  should  not  I  ? " 

"Ah,  that  means  that  you  will  love  me  in  time;  for  love  is 
not  born  in  an  instant,  my  son." 

"  My  heart  reaches  out  to  you,  my  father :  I  love  you  even 
now,  and  sympathize  with  you  deeply;  and  I  feel  that  I  shall 
love  you  more  and  more,  and  as  I  shall  see  you  oftener  and 
know  you  better,"  said  the  simply  truthful  son. 

"Ishmael!  this  is  the  happiest  hour  I  have  known  since 
Nora's  death,  and  Nora's  son  has  given  it  to  me." 

"  None  have  a  better  right  to  serve  you." 

"My  son,  I  am  a  prematurely  old  and  broken  man,  ruined 
and  impoverished,  but  Brudenell  Hall  is  still  mine,  and  the 
name  of  Brudenell  is  one  of  the  most  ancient  and  honored  in 
the  Old  and  New  World !  If  you  consent,  Ishmael,  I  will  gladly, 
proudly,  and  openly  acknowledge  you  as  my  son.  I  will  get 
an  act  of  the  Legislature  passed  authorizing  you  to  take  the 
name  and  arms  of  Brudenell.  And  I  will  mako  you  the  heir  of 
Brudenell  Hall.  What  say  you,  Ishmael  ?  " 

"  Father,"  said  the  young  man,  promptly  but  respectfully, 
"no!  In  all  things  I  will  be  to  you  a  true  and  loving  son; 
but  I  cannot,,  cannot  consent  to  your  proposal;  because  to  do 
so  would  be  to  cast  bitter,  heavy,  unmerited  reproach  upon  my 
sweet  mother's  memory!  For,  listen,  sir:  you  are  known  to 
have  been  the  husband  of  the  Countess  Hurstmonceux  for  more 
years  than  I  have  lived  in  this  world;  you  are  known  to  have 
been  so  at  the  very  time  of  my  birth;  you  could  not  go  about 
explaining  the  circumstances  to  everyone  who  would  become 
acquainted  with  the  facts,  and  the  consequences  would  be  what 
J  said !  No,  father,  leave  me  as  I  am ;  for,  besides  the  reasons 
T  have  given,  there  is  yet  another  reason  why  I  may  not  take 
your  name." 

"  What  is  that,  Ishmael  ? "  asked  Brudenell,  in  a  broken 
voice. 

"  It  is,  that  in  an  hour  of  passionate  grief,  after  hearing  my 
mother's  wcaful  story  from  the  lips  of  my  aunt,  I  fell  upon  that") 
mother's  grave   and  vowed  to  make  her  name — the  only  thing 
she  had  to  leave  me,  poor  mother  1 — illustrious.    It  was  a  piece 


14          SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

of  boyish  vainglory,  no  doubt,  but  it  was  a  vow,  and  I  must 
try  to  keep  it,"  said  Ishmael,  faintly  smiling. 

"You  will  keep  it;  you  will  make  the  name  of  Worth  illus 
trious  in  the  annals  of  the  country,  Ishmael,"  said  Mr.  Bru- 
denelL 

There  was  a  pause  for  a  little  while,  at  the  end  of  which  the 
latter  said : 

"  There  is  another  way  in  which  I  may  be  able  to  accomplish 
my  purpose,  Ishmael.  Without  proclaiming  you  as  my  son,  and 
risking  the  reproach  you  dread  for  your  dear  mother's  memory, 
I  might  adopt  you  as  my  son,  and  appoint  you  as  my  heir.  Will 
you  make  me  happy  by  consenting  to  that  measure,  Ishmael  ? " 
inquired  the  father,  in  a  persuasive  tone. 

"  Dear  sir,  I  cannot.  Oh,  do  not  think  that  I  am  insensible 
to  all  your  kindness,  for  indeed  I  am  not!  I  thank  you;  I  love 
you;  and  I  deeply  sympathize  with  you  in  your  disappoint 
ment;  but " 

"  But  what,  my  son  ?  what  is  the  reason  you  cannot  agree  to 
this  last  proposal?"  asked  Mr.  Brudenell,  in  a  voice  quivering 
with  emotion. 

"  A  strong  spirit  of  independence,  the  growth  of  years  of 
lonely  struggle  with  the  world,  possesses  and  inspires  me.  I 
could  not  for  an  hour  endure  patronage  or  dependence,  come 
they  from  where  or  how  they  might.  It  is  the  law  of  my  life," 
said  Ishmael  firmly,  but  affectionately. 

"  It  is  a  noble  law,  and  yours  has  been  a  noble  life,  my  son. 
But — is  there  nothing,  nothing  I  can  do  for  you  to  prove  my 
affection,  and  to  ease  my  heart,  Ishmael  ? " 

"  Yes !  "  said  the  young  man,  after  a  pause.  "  When  you  re 
turn  to  England,  you  will  see — Lady  Vincent !  "  The  name  was 
uttered  with  a  gasp.  "  Tell  her  what  you  have  told  me — the 
history  of  your  acquaintance  with  my  mother;  your  mutual 
love;  your  private  marriage,  and  the  unforeseen  misfortune  that 
wrecked  your  happiness!  Tell  her  how  pure  and  noble  and 
lovely  my  young  mother  was!  that  her  ladyship  may  know  once 
for  all  Nora  Worth  was  not " — Tshmael  covered  his  face 
with  his  hands,  and  caught  his  breath,  and  continued — "  not, 
as  she  said,  '  the  shame  of  her  own  sex  and  the  scorn  of  ours'; 
that  her  son  is  not  'the  child  of  sin/  nor  'his  heritage  dis 
honor!  ' "  And  Ishmael  dropped  his  stately  head  upon  his  desk, 
and  sobbed  aloud;  sobbed  until  all  his  athletic  form  shook 
with  the  storm  of  his  great  agony. 


FATHER    AND    SOX.  15 

Herman  Brudenell  gazed  at  him — appalled.  Then,  rising, 
he  laid  his  hand  on  the  young  man's  shoulder,  saying : 

"  Ishmael !  Ishmael !  don't  do  so !  Calm  yourself,  my  son ; 
oh,  my  dear  son,  calm  yourself !  " 

He  might  as  well  have  spoken  to  a  tempest.  Sobs  still  shook 
Ishmael's  whole  frame. 

"  Oh,  Heaven !  oh,  Heaven !  Would  to  the  Lord  I  had  never 
been  born !  "  cried  Herman  Brudenell,  in  a  voice  of  such  utter 
woe  that  Ishmael  raised  his  head  and  struggled  hard  to  sub 
due  the  storm  of  passion  that  was  raging  in  his  bosom.  "  Or 
would  that  I  had  died  the  day  I  met  Nora,  and  before  I  had 
entailed  all  this  anguish  on  you ! "  continued  Herman  Bru 
denell,  amid  groans  and  sighs. 

"  Don't  say  so,  my  father !  don't  say  so !  You  were  not  in 
fault.  You  were  as  blameless  as  she  herself  was;  and  you  could 
not  have  been  more  so,"  said  Ishmael,  wiping  his  fevered  brow, 
and  looking  up. 

"  My  generous  son !  But  did  Claudia — did  Lady  Vincent  use 
the  cruel  words  you  have  quoted,  against  your  mother  and  your 
self?" 

"  She  did,  my  father.  Oh,  but  I  have  suffered ! "  exclaimed 
Ishmael,  with  shaking  voice  and  quivering  features. 

"  I  know  you  have ;  I  know  it,  Ishmael ;  but  you  have 
grandly,  gloriously  conquered  suffering,"  said  Mr.  Brudenell, 
with  enthusiasm. 

"  Not  quite  conquered  it  yet ;  but  I  shall  endeavor  to  do  so," 
replied  the  young  man,  who  had  now  quite  regained  his  self- 
possession. 

And  another  pause  fell  between  them. 

Ishmael  leaned  his  head  upon  his  hand  and  reflected  deeply 
for  a  few  moments.  Then,  raising  his  head,  he  said: 

"My  father,  for  her  sake,  our  relationship  must  remain  a 
secret  from  all  the  world,  with  the  few  exceptions  of  those  in 
timate  friends  to  whom  you  can  explain  the  circumstances,  and 
even  to  them  it  must  be  imparted  in  confidence.  You  will  tell 
Lady  Vincent,  that  her  ladyship  may  know  how  false  were  the 
calumnies  she  permitted  herself  to  repeat;  and  Judge  Merlin 
and  Mr.  Middleton,  whose  kindness  has  entitled  them  to  the 
confidence,  for  their  own  satisfaction." 

"  And  no  one  else,  Ishmael  ?  " 

"No  one  else  in  the  world,  my  father.  I  myself  will  tell 
Uncle  Keuben.  And  in  public,  my  father,  we  must  be  discreet 


16          SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

in  our  intercourse  with  each  other.  Forgive  me  if  I  speak  IB 
too  dictatorial  a  manner;  I  speak  for  lips  that  are  dumb  in 
death.  I  speak  as  my  dead  mother's  advocate,"  said  Ishmael, 
with  a  strange  blending  of  meekness  and  firmness  in  his  toiia 
and  manner. 

"  And  her  advocate  shall  be  heard  and  heeded,  hard  as  his 
mandate  seems.  But,  ah !  I  am  an  old  and  broken  man,  Ishmael. 
I  had  hoped,  in  time,  to  claim  you  as  my  son,  and  solace  my  ago 
in  your  bright  youth.  I  am  grievously  disappointed.  Oh ! 
would  to  Heaven  I  had  taken  charge  of  you  in  your  infancy, 
and  then  you  would  not  disclaim  me  now  !"  sighed  Mr.  Bru- 
denell. 

"  I  do  not  disclaim  you,  father.  I  only  deprecate  the  publicity 
that  might  vvound  my  mother's  memory.  And  you  are  not 
old  and  broken,  my  father.  How  can  you  be — at  forty-three? 
You  are  in  the  sunny  summer  noon  of  your  life.  But  you  are 
harassed  and  ill  in  mind  and  body;  and  you  are  very  morbid 
and  sensitive.  You  shun  society,  form  no  new  ties  with  your 
fellow-creatures,  and  brood  over  that  old  sad  tragedy  long 
passed.  Think  no  more  of  it,  father;  its  wounds  are  long 
since  healed  in  every  heart  but  yours;  my  mother  has  been  in 
heaven  these  many  years;  as  long  as  1  have  been  on  earth;  my 
birthday  here  was  her  birthday  there!  Therefore,  brood  no 
more  over  that  sad  time;  it  is  forever  past  and  gone.  Think  of 
your  young  love  as  much  as  you  please;  but  think  of  her  in 
heaven.  It  is  not  well  to  think  forever  of  the  Crucifixion  and 
never  of  the  Ascension;  forever  of  the  martyrdom  that  was  but 
for  a  moment,  and  never  of  the  glory  that  is  from  everlasting 
to  everlasting.  Nora  was  martyred;  her  martyrdom  was  as 
the  grief  of  a  moment ;  but  she  has  ascended  and  her  happiness 
is  etarnal  in  the  heavens.  Think  of  her  so.  And  rouse  your 
self.  Wake  to  the  duties  and  pleasures  of  life.  Look  around 
upon  and  enjoy  the  beauty  of  the  earth,  the  wisdom  of  man, 
the  loveliness  of  woman,  and  the  goodness  of  God.  If  you  were 
a  single  man  I  should  say  'marry  again';  but  as  you  are  al 
ready  a  married  man,  though  estranged  from  your  wife,  I  say 
to  you,  seek  a  reconciliation  with  that  lady.  You  are  both  in 
the  prime  of  life." 

"  What !  does  Nora's  son  give  me  such  advice  ? "  inquired 
Brudenell,  with  a  faint,  incredulous  smile. 

"  Yes,  he  does ;  as  Nora  herself  in  her  wisdom  and  love  would 
do,  could  she  speak  to  you  from  heaven,"  said  Ishmael  solemnly! 


FATHER   AND   SON.  17 

Brudenell  slowly  and  sorrowfully  shook  his  head. 

"  The  Countess  of  Hurstmonceux  can  nevermore  be  anything 
to  me,"  he  said. 

"  My  father !  have  you  then  no  kindly  memory  of  the  sweet 
young  lady  who  placed  her  innocent  affections  upon  you  in.  your 
early  manhood,  and  turning  away  from  all  her  wealthy  and  ti 
tled  suitors,  gave  herself  and  her  fortune  to  you  ? " 

Slowly  and  bitterly  Herman  Brudenell  shook  his  head.  Ish- 
mael,  still  looking  earnestly  in  his  face  continued: 

"  Who  left  her  native  country  and  her  troops  of  friends,  and 
crossed  the  sea  alone,  to  follow  you  to  a  home  that  must  have 
seemed  like  a  wilderness,  and  servants  that  were  like  savages 
to  her;  who  devoted  her  time  and  spent  her  money  in  embell 
ishing  your  house  and  improving  your  land,  and  in  civilizing 
and  Christianizing  your  negroes;  and  who  passed  the  flower 
of  her  youth  in  that  obscure  neighborhood,  doing  good  and 
waiting  patiently  long,  weary  years  for  the  return  of  the  man 
she  loved." 

Still  the  bitter,  bitter  gesture  of  negation  from  Herman. 

"Father,"  said  Ishmael,  fixing  his  beautiful  eyes  on  Bru- 
denell's  face  and  speaking  earnestly,  "  it  seems  to  me  that  if 
any  young  lady  had  loved  me  with  such  devotion  and  constancy, 
I  must  have  loved  her  fondly  in  return.  I  could  not  have 
helped  doing  so !  " 

"  She  wronged  me,  Ishmael !  " 

"And  even  if  she  had  offended  me — deeply  and  justly  offended 
me — I  must  have  forgiven  her  and  taken  her  back  to  my  bosom 
again." 

"  It  was  worse  than  that,  Ishmael !  It  was  no  common 
offense.  She  deceived  me !  She  was  false  to  me !  " 

"  I  cannot  believe  it !  "  exclaimed  Ishmael   earnestly. 

"  Why,  what  ground  have  you  for  saying  so  ?  What  can  you 
know  of  it  ?  " 

"  Because  I  do  not  easily  think  evil  of  women-.  My  life  has 
been  short  and  my  experience  limited,  I  know;  but  as  far  as 
my  observation  instructs  me,  they  are  very  much  better  than  we 
are;  they  do  not  readily  yield  to  evil;  their  tendencies  are  all 
good,"  said  Ishmael  fervently. 

"Young  man,  you  know  a  great  deal  of  books,  a  great  deal 
of  law;  but  little  of  men,  and  less  of  women.  A  man  of  the 
world  would  smile  to  hear  you  say  what  you  have  just  said, 
Ishmael." 


18  SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

"  If  I  am  mistaken,  it  is  a  matter  to  weep  over,  not  to  smile 
at ! "  said  Ishmael  gravely,  and  almost  severely. 

"  It  is  true." 

"  But  to  return  to  your  countess,  my  father.  I  am  not  mis 
taken  in  that  lady's  face,  I  know.  I  have  not  seen  it  since  I 
\vas  eight  years  old;  but  it  is  before  me  now!  a  sweet,  sad, 
patient  young  face,  full  of  holy  love.  Among  the  earliest  memo 
ries  of  my  life  is  that  of  the  young  Countess  of  Hurstmonceux, 
and  the  stories  that  were  afloat  concerning  herself  and  you.  It 
was  said  that  every  day  at  sunset  she  would  go  to  the  turn 
stile  at  the  crossroads  on  the  edge  of  the  estate,  where  she 
could  see  ajl  up  and  down  two  roads  for  many  miles,  and  there 
stand  watching  to  catch  the  first  glimpse  of  you,  if  perhaps  you 
might  be  returning  home.  She  did  this  for  years  and  years, 
until  people  began  to  say  that  she  was  crazed  with  hope  de 
ferred.  It  was  at  that  very  stile  I  first  saw  her.  And  when  I 
looked  at  her  lovely  face  and  thought  of  her  many  charities — 
for  there  was  no  suffering  from  poverty  in  that  neighborhood 
•while  she  lived  there — I  felt  that  she  was  an  angel !  " 

"  Aye !  a  fallen  angel,  Ishmael !  " 

"  No,  father !  no !  my  life  and  soul  on  her  truth  and  love  1 
Children  are  good  judges  of  character,  you  know!  And  I  was 
but  eight  years  old  on  the  occasion  of  which  I  speak!  I  was 
carrying  a  basket  of  tools  for  the  '  professor,'  whose  assist 
ant  I  was;  and  who  would  have  carried  them  himself  only  that 
his  back  was  bent  beneath  a  load  of  kitchen  utensils,  for  we 
had  been  plastering  a  cistern  all  day  and  in  coming  home  took 
these  things  to  mend  in  the  evening.  And  as  we  passed  down 
the  road  we  saw  this  lovely  lady  leaning  on  the  stile.  And  she 
called  me  to  her  and  laid  her  hand  on  my  head  and  looked 
in  my  face  rery  tenderly,  and  turning  to  the  professor,  said : 
'  This  child  is  too  young  for  so  heavy  a  burden.'  And  she  took 
out  her  purse  and  would  have  given  me  an  eagle,  only  that  Aunt 
Hannah  had  taught  me  never  to  take  money  that  I  had  not 
earned." 

"  Grim  Hannah !  It  is  a  marvel  she  had  not  starved  you  with 
her  scruples,  Ishmael!  But  what  else  passed  between  you  and 
the  countess?" 

"  Not  much !  but  if  she  was  sorry  for  me,  I  was  quite  as  sorry 
for  her." 

"  There  was  a  bond  of  sympathy  between  you  which  you 
felt  without  understanding  at  the  time!" 


FATHER   AND   SON.  19 

"  There  was ;  though  I  mistook  its  precise  character.  Seeing 
that  she  wore  black,  I  said :  '  Have  you  also  lost  your  mother, 
my  lady,  and  are  you  in  deep  mourning  for  her  ? '  And  she 
answered,  '  I  am  in  deep  mourning  for  my  dead  happiness, 
child ! ' " 

"  For  her  dead  honor,  she  might  have  said ! " 

"Father!  the  absent  are  like  the  dead;  they  cannot  defend 
themselves,"  said  Ishmael. 

"  That  is  true ;  and  I  stand  rebuked !  And  henceforth,  what 
ever  I  may  think,  I  will  never  speak  evil  of  the  Countess  of 
Hurstmonceux." 

"  Go  farther  yet,  dear  sir!  seek  an  explanation  with  her,  and 
my  word  on  it  she  will  be  able  to  confute  the  calumnies,  or 
clear  up  the  suspicious  circumstances  or  whatever  it  may  have 
been  that  has  shaken  your  confidence  in  her,  and  kept  you  apart 
so  long." 

"  Ishmael  it  is  a  subject  that  I  have  never  broached  to 
the  countess,  and  one  that  I  could  not  endure  to  discuss  with 
her!" 

"  What,  my  father  ?  Would  you  forever  condemn  her  un 
heard  ?  We  do  not  treat  our  worst  criminals  so ! " 

"  Spare  me,  my  son !  for  I  have  spared  her ! " 

"If  by  sparing  her  you  mean  that  you  have  left  her  alone, 
you  had  better  not  spared  her;  you  had  better  sought  divorce; 
then  one  of  two  things  would  have  happened — either  she  would 
have  disproved  the  charges  brought  against  her,  or  she  would 
have  been  set  free!  either  alternative  much  better  than  her 
present  condition." 

"  I  could  not  drag  my  domestic  troubles  into  a  public 
courtroom,  Ishmael ! " 

"Not  when  justice  required  it,  father? — But  you  are  going 
down  into  the  neighborhood  of  Brudenell  Hall!  You  will  hear 
of  her  from  the  people  among  whom  she  lived  for  so  many  years, 
and  who  cherish  her  memory  as  that  of  an  angel  of  mercy, 
and — you  will  change  your  opinion  of  her." 

Herman  Brudenell  smiled  incredulously,  and  then  said: 

"Apropos  of  my  visit  to  Brudenell  Hall!  I  hope,  Ishmael, 
that  you  will  be  able  to  join  me  there  in  the  course  of  the  sum 
mer?" 

"  Father,  yes !  I  promise  you  to  do  so.  I  will  be  at  pains  to 
put  my  business  in  such  train  as  will  enable  me  to  visit  you  for 
a  week  or  two." 


20    SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

"  Thanks,  Ishmael !  And  now,  do  you  know  I  think  the  first 
dinner  bell  rang  some  time  ago  and  it  is  time  to  dress  ? " 

And  Herman  Brudenell  arose,  and  after  pressing  Ishmael'a 
hand,  left  the  library. 

The  interview  furnished  Ishmael  with  too  much  food  for 
thought  to  admit  of  his  moving  for  some  time.  He  sat  by  the 
table  in  a  brown  study,  reflecting  upon  all  that  he  had  heard, 
until  he  was  suddenly  startled  by  the  pealing  out  of  the  second 
bell.  Then  he  sprang  up,  hurried  to  his  chamber,  hastily  ar 
ranged  his  toilet,  and  went  down  into  the  dining  room,  where 
he  found  all  the  family  already  assembled  and  waiting  for  him. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

BEE. 

And  coldly  from  that  noble  heart, 

In  all  its  glowing  youth, 
His  love  had  turned  and  spurned  apart 

Its  tenderness  and  truth — 
Let  him  alone  to  live,  or  die — 

Alone  ! — Yet,  who  is  she? 
Some  guardian  angel  from  the  sky. 

To  bless  and  aid  him? — Bee! 

— Anon. 

Ishmael  received  many  other  invitations.  One  morning, 
while  he  was  seated  at  the  table  in  his  office,  Walter  Middleton 
entered,  saying: 

"  Ishmael,  leave  reading  over  those  stupid  documents  and 
listen  to  me.  I  am  going  to  Saratoga  for  a  month.  Come  with 
me;  it  will  do  you  good." 

"  Thank  you  all  the  same,  Walter ;  but  I  cannot  leave  the  city 
now,"  said  Ishmael. 

"Nonsense!  there  is  but  little  doing;  and  now,  if  ever,  you 
should  take  some  recreation-." 

"  But  I  am  busy  with  getting  up  some  troublesome  cases  for 
the  next  term." 

"And  that's  worse  than  nonsense!  Leave  the  cases  alone 
until  the  court  sits;  take  some  rest  and  recreation  and  you  will 
find  it  pay  well  in  renewed  vigor  of  body  and  mind.  I  that 
tell  you  so  am  an  M.  D.,  you  know." 

"  I  thank  you,  Dr.  Middleton,  and  when  I  find  myself  growing 


BEE.  21 

weak  I  will  follow  your  prescription,"  smiled  Ishmael,  rising 
and  beginning  to  tie  up  his  documents. 

"  And  that's  a  signal  for  my  dismissal,  I  suppose.  Off  to  the 
City  Hall  again  this  morning  ? "  inquired  Walter. 

"  Yes ;  to  keep  an  appointment,"  replied  Ishmael.  And  the 
friends  separated. 

Later  in  the  day,  when  the  young  attorney  had  returned 
and  was  spending  his  leisure  hour  in  going  on  with  the  book- 
packing,  Judge  Merlin  entered  and  threw  himself  into  a  chair 
and  for  some  moments  watched  the  packer. 

"  What  is  that  you  are  doing  now,  Ishmael  ?  Oh,  I  see ;  doc 
toring  a  sick  book !  " 

"  Well,  I  dislike  to  see  a  fine  volume  that  has  served  us 
faithfully  and  seen  hard  usage  perish  for  the  want  of  a  mo 
ment's  attention ;  it  is  but  that  which  is  required  when  we  have 
the  mucilage  at  hand,"  he  said,  smiling  and  pointing  to  the 
bottle  and  brush,  and  then  deposited  the  book  in  its  packing- 
case. 

"But  that  is  not  what  I  come  to  talk  to  you  about.  Have 
you  found  a  proper  room  for  an  office  yet?" 

"  Yes ;  I  have  a  suite  of  rooms  on  the  first  floor  of  a  house  on 
Louisiana  Avenue.  The  front  room  I  shall  use  for  a  public 
office,  the  middle  one  for  a  private  office,  and  the  back  one, 
which  opens  upon  a  pleasant  porch  and  a  garden,  for  a  bed 
chamber;  for  I  shall  lodge  there  and  board  with  the  family," 
replied  Ishmael. 

"  That  seems  to  be  a  pleasant  arrangement.  But,  Ishmael, 
take  my  advice  and  engage  a  clerk  immediately ; — you  will  want 
one  before  long,  anyhow — and  put  him  in  your  rooms  to  watch 
your  business,  and  do  you  take  a  holiday.  Come  down  to  Tan- 
glewood  for  a  month.  You  need  the  change.  After  the  wilder 
ness  of  houses  and  men  you  want  the  world  of  trees  and  birds. 
At  least  I  do,  and  I  judge  you  by  myself." 

Ishmael  smiled,  thanked  his  kind  friend  cordially,  and  then, 
in  terms  as  courteous  as  he  could  devise,  declined  the  invita 
tion,  giving  the  same  reasons  for  doing  so  that  he  had  already 
given  first  to  Mr.  Brudenell  and  next  to  Walter  Middleton. 

"  Well,  Ishmael,  I  will  not  urge  you,  for  I  know  by  past  ex 
perience  when  you  have  once  made  up  your  mind  to  a  course 
of  conduct  you  deem  right,  nothing  on  earth  will  turn  you  aside 
from  it.  But  see  here !  why  do  you  go  through  all  that  drudgery  ? 
Why  not  order  Powers  to  pack  those  books  ?  " 


22  SELF-RAISED  ;    OR,    FROM    THE    DEPTHS. 

"  Powers  is  a  pearl  in  his  own.  way ;  but  he  cannot  pack  books ; 
and  besides,  he  has  no  respect  for  them." 

"No  feeling,  you  mean!  he  would  not  dreso  their  wounds 
before  putting  them  to  bed  in  those  boxes ! " 

"  No." 

"Well,  'a  wilfu'  mon  maun  ha'  his  way,'"  said  the  judge, 
taking  up  the  evening  paper  and  burying  himself  in  its  perusal. 
That  same  night,  while  Ishmael,  having  finished  his  day's  work,) 
was  refreshing  himself  by  strolling  through  the  garden,  in 
haling  the  fragrance  of  flowers,  listening  to  the  gleeful  chirp 
of  the  joyous  little  insects,  and  watching  the  light  of  the  stars, 
he  heard  an  advancing  step  behind  him,  and  presently  his  arm 
was  taken  by  Mr.  Middleton,  who,  walking  on  with  him,  said: 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  with  yourself,  Ishmael  ? " 

"  Put  myself  to  work  like  a  beaver ! " 

"  Humph !  that  will  be  nothing  new  for  you.  But  I  came  out 
here  to  induce  you  to  reconsider  that  resolution.  I  wish  to 
persuade  you  to  join  us  at  Beacon  House.  That  high  promon 
tory  stretching  far  out  to  sea  and  exposed  to  all  the  sea  breezes 
will  be  the  very  place  to  recruit  your  health  at.  Come,  what 
say  you  ? " 

Ishmael's  eyes  grew  moist  as  he  grasped  Mr.  Middleton'a 
hand  and  said: 

"  Three  invitations  of  this  sort  I  have  already  had — this  is 
the  fourth.  My  friends  are  too  kind.  I  know  not  how  I  have 
won  such  friendship  or  deserved  such  kindness.  But  I  cannot 
avail  myself  of  the  pleasant  quarters  they  offer  me.  I  cannot, 
at  present,  leave  Washington,  except  at  such  a  sacrifice  of  pro 
fessional  duties  as  they  would  not  wish  me  to  make.  Mr.  Mid 
dleton,  I  thank  you  heartily  all  the  same." 

"Well,  Ishmael,  I  am  sorry  to  lose  your  company;  but  not 
sorry  for  the  cause  of  the  loss.  The  pressure  of  business  that 
confines  you  to  the  city  during  the  recess  argues  much  for  your 
popularity  and  success.  But,  my  dear  boy,  pray  consider  my 
invitation  as  a  standing  one,  and  promise  me  to  avail  yourself 
of  it  the  first  day  you  can  do  so." 

"Thank  you;  that  I  will  gladly  do,  Mr.  Middleton." 

"And  when  you  come,  remain  with  us  as  long  as  you  can 
without  neglecting  your  duty." 

"  Indeed  I  will." 

At  that  moment  a  light  rustle  through  the  bushes  was  heard 
and  Bee  joined  them,  saying: 


BEE.  23 

"Papa,  if  I  were  to  tell  you  the  dew  is  falling  heavily  and 
the  grass  is  wet,  and  it  is  not  good  for  you  or  Ishmael  to  be 
out  here,  you  might  not  heed  me.  But  when  I  say  that  uncle 
has  gone  with  General  Tourneysee  to  a  political  pow-wow,  and 
mamma  and  myself  are  quite  alone  and  would  like  to  amuse 
ourselves  with  a  game  of  whist,  perhaps  you  will  come  in  and 
be  our  partners." 

"  Why,  certainly,  Busy  Bee ;  for  if  anyone  in  this  world  de 
serves  play  after  work  it  is  you,"  replied  Mr.  Middletan. 

"  Eight  face !  forward !  march ! "  then  said  Bee ;  and  she  led 
her  captives  out  of  the  night  air  and  into  the  house. 

Early  the  next  morning  Ishmael  was  surprised  by  a  fifth  in 
vitation  to  a  country  house.  It  was  contained  in  a  letter  from 
Reuben  Gray,  which  was  as  follows : 

"Woodside,  o  Monday  Morning. 

"  My  Deer  Ishmael : — Hannah  and  me,  we  hav  bin  a  havin  of 
a  talk  about  you.  You  see  the  judge  he  wrote  to  me  a  spell 
back,  a  orderin  of  me  to  have  the  house  got  reddy  for  him 
comin  home.  And  he  menshunned,  permiskuously  like,  as  you 
was  not  lookin  that  well  as  you  orter.  But  Hannah  and  me, 
we  thort  as  how  is  was  all  along  o  that  botheration  law  business 
as  you  was  upset  on  your  helth.  And  as  how  you'd  get  better 
when  the  Court  riz.  But  now  the  Court  is  riz,  and  pears  like 
you  aint  no  ways  better  from  all  accounts.  And  tell  you  how 
we  knowed.  See  Hannah  and  me,  we  got  a  letter  from  Mrs. 
Whaley  as  keeps  the  '  Farmers.'  Well  she  rote  to  Hannah  and 
me  to  send  her  up  some  chickins  and  duks  and  eggs  and  butter 
and  other  fresh  frutes  and  vegetubbles,  which  she  sez  as  they 
doo  ask  sich  onlawful  prices  for  em  in  the  city  markits  as  she 
cant  conshuenshusly  giv  it.  So  she  wants  Hannah  and  me  to 
soopli  her.  And  mabee  we  may  and  mabee  we  maynt;  but 
that's  nyther  here  nur  there.  Wot  Hannah  and  me  wants  to 
say  is  this — as  how  Mrs.  Whaley  she  met  you  in  the  street  in- 
cerdentul.  And  she  sez  as  how  she  newer  saw  no  wun  look  no 
wusser  than  you  do!  Now,  Ishmael,  Hannah  and  me,  we  sees 
how  it  is.  Youre  a-killin  of  yourself  jest  as  fast  as  ever  you  can, 
which  is  no  better  than  Susanside,  because  it  is  agin  natur  and 
agin  rillijun  to  kill  wunself  for  a  livin.  So  Hannah  and  me,  we 
wants  you  to  drap  everythink  rite  outen  your  hands  and  kum 
home  to  us.  Wot  you  want  is  a  plenty  of  good  kuntre  air  and 
wate*,  and  nun  o  your  stifeld  up  streets  and  pizen  pumps. 


24          SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

And  plenty  o  good  kuntre  eetin  and  drinkin  and  nun  o  your 
sickly  messes.  So  you  kum.  Hannah  and  me  is  got  a  fine  caff 
and  fat  lamm  to  kill  soon  as  ever  you  git  here.  And  lots  o 
young  chickins  and  duks.  And  the  gratest  kwontity  o  frute, 
peeches,  peers,  plums,  and  kantwlopes  and  warter  millions  in 
plenty.  And  the  hamberg  grapes  is  kummin  on.  And  we  hav 
got  a  noo  cow,  wun  o  the  sort  cawld  durrums,  which  she  doo 
give  the  richest  milk  as  ever  you  drinked  and  if  ennything  will 
set  you  up  it  is  that.  And  likewise  we  hav  got  the  noo  fashund 
fowls  as  people  are  all  runnin  mad  about.  They  cawl  em  shank 
hyes  pun  count  o  there  long  leggs,  which  they  is  about  the 
longest  as  ever  you  saw.  And  the  way  them  fowls  doo  stryde 
and  doo  eet  is  a  cawshun  to  housekeepers.  They  gobble  up 
everything.  And  wot  doo  you  think.  You  know  Sally's  brest- 
pin,  as  Jim  bawt  her  for  a  kristmus  gift.  Well  she  happened 
to  drap  it  offen  her  buzzum,  inter  the  poultry  yard,  and  soons 
ever  she  mist  it  she  run  rite  out  after  it;  but  the  shank-hye 
rooster  he  run  fastern  she  did  with  his  long  legs  and  gobbled 
it  rite  down,  afore  his  eyes.  And  the  poor  gals  bin  a  howlin  and 
bawlin  and  brakin  of  her  poor  hart  ebout  it  ever  since.  She 
wanted  us — Hannah  and  me  to  kill  the  shank-hye;  to  git  the 
brestpin;  but  as  we  had  onlee  a  pare  on  em  we  tolde  her  how  it 
was  too  vallabel  for  that.  But  Hannah  and  me  we  give  the 
shank  hye  a  dose  of  eepeekak,  in  hope  it  would  make  him  throw- 
up  the  brestpin;  but  it  dident;  for  the  eepeekak  set  on  his 
stomik  like  an  angel,  as  likewise  did  the  brestpin;  and  Hannah 
and  me  thinks  he  diggested  em  both.  Well,  they  aint  daintee 
in  their  wittels  them  shank  hyes.  Now  bee  shure  to  kum,  Ish- 
mael.  Hannah  and  me  and  the  young  uns  and  Sally  will  awl 
be  so  glad  to  see  you  and  you  can  role  in  clover  awl  day  if  you 
like.  And  now  I  have  ralely  no  more  noose  to  tell  you;  only 
that  I  rote  this  letter  awl  outen  my  own  bed  without  Hannah 
helpin  of  me.  Dont  you  think  as  Ime  improvin  ?  Hannah  and 
•the  little  uns  and  Sally  jine  me  in  luv  to  you  mi  deer  IshmaeL 
And  Ime  your  effectshunit  f rend  till  deth  do  us  part. 

"Reuben  Gray. 

"Post  Cript.  Ive  jist  redd  this  letter  to  Hannah.  And  she 
doo  say  as  every  uther  wurd  is  rote  rong.  I  dont  think  they  is ; 
becawse  Ive  got  a  sartain  roole  to  spell  rite;  which  is — I  think 
how  a  word  sownde  and  then  I  spell  it  accord  in.  But  law,  Ish- 
mael!  ever  sense  Hannab  has  been  teechin  them  young  uns  o 


BEE.  25 

ourn  to  reede  there  primmers,  shes  jest  got  to  be  the  orfullest 
Bloo  Stokkin  as  ewer  was.  Dont  tell  her  I  sed  so  tho,  for  she 
ralely  is  wun  of  the  finest  wimmin  livin  and  Ime  prowd  of  her 
and  her  young  uns.  So  no  more  at  present  onle  kum. 

"K.  G." 

Grateful  for  this  kind  invitation  as  he  had  been  for  any  that 
had  been  given  him,  Ishmael  sat  down  immediately  and  an 
swered  the  letter,  saying  to  Reuben,  as  he  had  said  to  others, 
that  he  would  thankfully  accept  his  offered  hospitality  as  soon 
as  his  duties  would  permit  him  to  do  so. 

The  last  day  of  the  family's  sojourn  in  town  came.  On  the 
morning  of  that  day  Mr.  Brudenell  took  leave  of  his  friends  and 
departed,  exacting  from  Ishmael  a  renewal  of  his  promise  to 
visit  Brudenell  Hall  in  the  course  of  the  summer.  On  that  last 
day  Ishmael  completed  the  packing  of  the  books  and  sent  them 
off  to  the  boat  that  was  to  convey  them  to  the  Tanglewood  land 
ing.  And  then  he  had  all  his  own  personal  effects  conveyed  to 
his  new  lodgings.  And  finally  he  sought  an  interview  with  Bee. 
That  was  not  so  easily  obtained,  however.  Bee  was  excessively 
busy  on  this  last  day.  But  Ishmael,  with  the  privilege  of  an  in 
mate,  went  through  the  house,  looking  for  her,  until  he  found 
her  in  the  family  storeroom,  busy  among  the  jars  and  cans,  and 
attended  by  her  maids. 

"  Come  in,  Ishmael,  for  this  concerns  you,"  she  said  pleas 
antly. 

And  Ishmael  entered,  wondering  what  he  could  be  supposed 
to  have  to  do  with  preserved  fruits  and  potted  meats. 

Bee  pointed  to  a  box  that  was  neatly  packed  with  small  jars, 
saying: 

"  There,  Ishmael — there  are  some  sealed  fruits  and  vegetables, 
and  some  spiced  meats  and  fish,  and  a  bachelor's  lamp  and 
kettle,  in  that  case  which  Ann  is  closing  down.  They  are  yourg. 
Direct  Jim  where  to  find  your  lodgings,  and  he  will  take  them 
there  in  the  wheelbarrow.  And  there  is  a  keg  of  crackers  and 
biscuits  to  go  with  them." 

"  Dearest  Bee,  I  am  very  grateful ;  but  why  should  you  give 
me  all  these  things  ?  "  inquired  Ishmael,  in  surprise. 

"Because  you  are  going  away  from  home,  and  you  will  want 
them.  Yes,  you  will,  Ishmael,  though  you  don't  think  so  now. 
Often  business  will  detain  you  out  in  the  evening  until  after 
your  boarding-house  supper  is  over.  Then  how  nice  to  have 


26  SELF-KAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

the  means  at  hand  to  get  a  comfortable  little  meal  for  yourself 
in  your  own  room  without  aauch  trouble.  Why,  Ishmael,  we 
always  put  up  such  a  box  as  this  for  Walter  when  he  leaves 
us.  And  do  you  think  that  mamma  or  I  would  make  any  dif 
ference  between  you  ?  " 

"  You  have  always  been  a  dear — yes,  the  dearest  of  sisters  to 

me!  and  some  day,  Bee '  He  stopped,  and  looked  around. 

The  maids  were  at  some  distance,  but  still  he  felt  that  the 
family  storeroom  was  not  exactly  the  place  to  say  what  was  on 
his  heart  for  her,  so  he  whispered  the  question: 

"  How  long  will  you  be  engaged  here,  dear  Bee  ?  " 

"Until  tea  time.  It  will  take  me  quite  as  long  as  that  to 
get  through  what  I  have  to  do." 

"And  then,  Bee?" 

"  Then  I  shall  be  at  leisure  to  pass  this  last  evening  with 
you,  Ishmael,"  answered  Bee,  meeting  his  wish  with  the  frank 
ness  of  pure  affection. 

"  And  will  you  walk  with  me  in  the  garden  after  tea  ?  It  will 
be  our  last  stroll  together  there,"  he  said  rather  sadly. 

"Yes;  I  will  walk  with  you,  Ishmael.  The  garden  is  lovely 
just  at  sunset." 

"  Thank  you,  dearest  Bee.  Ah !  how  many  times  a  day  I  have 
occasion  to  speak  these  words ! " 

"  I  wish  you  would  leave  them  off  altogether,  then,  Ishmael. 
I  always  understand  that  you  thank  me  far  more  than  I  de 
serve." 

"  Never !  How  could  I  ?  '  Thank  you !'  they  are  but  two  words. 
How  could  they  repay  you,  Bee?  Dearest,  this  evening  you 
shall  know  how  much  I  thank  you.  Until  then,  farewell."  He 
pressed  her  hand  and  left  her. 

Now  Ishmael  was  far  too  clear-sighted  not  to  have  seen  that 
Bee  had  fixed  her  pure  maidenly  affections  upon  him,  and  to 
see  also  that  Bee's  choice  was  well  approved  by  her  parents, 
•who  had  long  loved  him  as  a  son.  While  Ishmael's  hands  had 
been  busy  with  the  book-packing  his  thoughts  had  been  busy 
with  Bee  and  with  the  problem  that  her  love  presented  him. 
He  had  loved  Claudia  with  an  all-absorbing  passion.  But  she 
had  left  him  and  married  another,  and  so  stricken  a  death 
blow  to  his  love.  But  this  love  was  dying  very  hard,  and  in  its 
death-struggles  was  rending  and  tearing  the  heart  which  was 
its  death-bed. 

And  in  the  meantime  Bee's  love  was  alive  and  healthy,  and 


BEE.  27 

it  was  fixed  on  him.  He  was  not  insensible,  indifferent,  un 
grateful  for  this  dear  love.  Indeed,  it  was  the  sweetest  solace 
that  he  had  in  this  world.  He  felt  in  the  profoundest  depths 
of  his  heart  all  the  loveliness  of  Bee's  nature.  And  most  ten 
derly  he  loved  her — as  a  younger  sister.  What  then  should  he 
do?  Offer  to  Bee  the  poor,  bleeding  heart  that  Claudia  had 
played  with,  broken,  and  cast  aside  as  worthless?  All  that  was 
true,  noble,  and  manly  in  Ishmael's  nature  responded: 

"God  forbid!" 

But  what  then  should  he  do?  Leave  her  to  believe  him  in 
sensible,  indifferent,  ungrateful?  Strike  such  a  deathblow  to 
her  loving  heart  as  Claudia  had  stricken  to  his  ?  All  that  was 
generous,  affectionate  and  devoted  in  Ishmael's  nature  cried 
out :  "  No !  forbid  it,  angels  in  heaven !  " 

But  what  then  could  he  do?  The  magnanimity  of  his  nature 
answered : 

"  Open  your  heart  to  her;  that  she  may  know  all  that  is  in  it; 
then  lay  that  heart  at  her  feet,  for  accepting  or  rejecting." 

And  this  he  resolved  to  do.  And  this  resolution  sent  him  to 
beg  this  interview  with  Bee.  Yet  before  going  to  keep  it  he 
determined  to  speak  to  Mr.  Middleton.  He  felt  certain  that 
Mr.  Middleton  would  indorse  his  addresses  to  his  daughter;  yet 
still  his  fine  sense  of  honor  constrained  him  to  seek  the  consent 
of  the  father  before  proposing  to  the  daughter.  And  with  this 
view  in  mind  immediately  upon  leaving  Bee  he  sought  Mr. 
Middleton. 

He  found  that  gentleman  walking  about  in  the  garden,  en 
joying  his  afternoon  cigar.  In  these  afternoon  promenades 
Mr.  Middleton,  who  was  the  shorter  and  slighter  as  well  as  the 
older  man,  often  did  Ishmael  the  honor  of  leaning  upon  his 
arm.  And  now  Ishmael  went  up  to  his  side  and  with  a  smile 
silently  offered  the  usual  support. 

"  Thank  you,  my  bey !  I  was  just  feeling  the  want  of  your 
friendly  arm.  My  limbs  are  apt  to  grow  tired  of  walking  be 
fore  my  eyes  are  satiated  with  gazing  or  my  mind  with  reflect 
ing  on  the  beauty  of  the  summer  evening,"  said  Mr.  Middle- 
ton,  slipping  his  arm  within  that  of  Ishmael. 

"  Sir,"  said  the  young  man,  blushing  slightly,  "  a  selfish  mo 
tive  has  brought  me  to  your  side  this  afternoon." 

"  A  selfish  motive,  Ishmael !  I  do  not  believe  that  you  are 
capable  of  entertaining  one,"  smiled  Mr.  Middleton. 

"  Indeed,  yes,  sir ;  you  will  say  so  when  you  hear  of  it." 


28  SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

"Let  me  hear  of  it,  then,  Ishmael,  for  the  novelty  of  the 
thing." 

The  young  man  hesitated  for  a  few  moments  and  then  said: 

"  Mr.  Middleton — Mr.  Brudenell  has,  I  believe,  put  you  in 
possession  of  the  facts  relative  to  my  birth  ? " 

"  Yes,  my  dear  Ishmael ;  but  let  me  assure  you  that  I  did  not 
need  to  be  told  of  them.  Do  you  remember  the  conversation 
•we  had  upon  the  subject  years  ago?  It  was  the  morning  after 
the  school  party  when  that  miserable  craven,  Alfred  Burghe, 
disgraced  himself  by  insulting  you.  You  said,  Ishmael,  '  My 
mother  was  a  pure  and  honorable  woman!  Oh,  believe  it!' 
I  did  believe  it  then,  Ishmael;  for  your  words  and  tones  and 
manner  carried  irresistible  conviction  to  my  mind.  And  every 
year  since  I  have  been  confirmed  in  my  belief.  You,  Ishmap*, 
are  the  pledge  of  your  parents'  honor  as  well  as  of  their  L/^e. 
'  Men  do  not  gather  grapes  of  thorns,  nor  figs  of  thistles,' "  said 
Mr.  Middleton  earnestly. 

"  And  yet,  sir,  I  have  suffered  and  may  again  suffer  reproach 
that  neither  myself  nor  my  parents  deserved,"  said  Ishmael 
gravely. 

"  You  never  will  again,  Ishmael.  You  have  overcome  the 
world." 

"  Thank  you !  thank  you,  sir !  I  purposely  reminded  you  of 
this  old  injustice.  You  do  not  regard  me  the  less  for  having 
suffered  it?" 

"  The  less !  No,  my  boy ;  but  the  more,  for  having  over 
come  it ! " 

"  Again  I  thank  you  from  the  depths  of  my  heart.  You  have 
known  me  from  boyhood,  Mr.  Middleton;  and  you  may  be  said 
to  know  my  character  and  my  prospects  better  than  anyone 
else  in  the  world  does ;  better,  even,  than  I  know  them  myself." 

"  I  think  that  quite  likely  to  be  true." 

"  Well,  sir,  I  hope  in  a  few  years  to  gain  an  established  repu 
tation  and  a  moderate  competency  by  my  practice  at  the  bar." 

"  You  will  gain  fame  and  wealth,  Ishmael." 

"Well,  sir,  if  ever  by  the  blessing  of  Heaven  I  do  attain 
these  distinctions,  taking  everything  else  into  consideration, 
would  you,  sir,  would  you  then " 

"  What,  Ishmael  ?    Speak  out,  my  boy  ?  " 

"  Accept  me  as  a  son  ? " 

"  Do  you  want  me  to  give  you  Bee  ? "  gravely  inquired  Mr. 
Middleton. 


BEE.  29 

"  When  I  shall  be  more  worthy  of  her,  I  do." 

"  Have  you  Bee's  consent  to  speak  to  me  on  this  subject  ? " 

"No,  sir;  I  have  not  yet  addressed  Miss  Middleton.  I  could 
not  venture  to  do  so  without  your  sanction.  It  is  to  obtain 
it  that  I  have  come  to  you  this  evening.  I  would  like  very 
much  to  have  an  understanding  with  Miss  Middleton  before  we 
part  for  an  indefinite  time." 

Mr.  Middleton  fell  into  deep  thought.  It  was  some  minutes 
before  he  spoke.  When  he  did,  it  was  to  say: 

"  Ishmael,  Bee  is  my  eldest  daughter  and  favorite  child." 

"I  know  it,  sir,"  answered  the  young  man. 

"Parents  ought  not  to  have  favorites  among  their  children; 
but  how  can  I  help  it?  Bee  is  almost  an  angel." 

"  I  know  it,  sir,"  said  Ishmael. 

"  Oh,  yes ;  you  know  it !  you  know  it ! "  exclaimed  Mr.  Mid 
dleton,  half  laughing  and  not  far  from  crying ;  "  but  do  you 
know  what  you  do  when  you  ask  a  father  to  give  up  his  best 
beloved  daughter  ? " 

"Indeed  I  think  I  do,  sir;  but — daughters  must  some  time 
or  other  become  wives,"  said  Ishmael,  with  a  deprecating  smile. 

"Yes,  it  is  true!"  sighed  Mr.  Middleton.  "Well,  Ishmael, 
since  in  the  course  of  nature  I  must  some  day  give  my  dear 
daughter  up,  I  would  rather  give  her  to  you  than  to  any  man  on 
earth,  for  I  have  a  great  esteem  and  affection  for  you,  Ishmael." 

"  Indeed,  sir,  it  is  mutual !  "  replied  the  young  man,  grasping 
the  hand  of  his  friend. 

"  It  is  just  the  state  of  feeling  that  should  exist  between 
father-  and  son-in-law,"  said  Mr.  Middleton. 

"  I  have  your  sanction,  then,  to  speak  to  Bee  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Ishmael,  yes ;  I  will  give  her  to  you !  But  not  yet,  my 
dear  boy;  for  several  reasons  not  just  yet!  You  are  both  very 
young  yet;  you  are  but  little  over  twenty-one;  she  scarcely 
nineteen;  and  besides  her  mother  still  needs  her  assistance  in 
taking  care  of  the  children;  and  I — must  get  used  to  the  idea 
of  parting  with  her;  so  you  must  wait  a  year  or  two  longer, 
Ishmael !  She  is  well  worth  waiting  for." 

"  I  know  it !  Oh,  I  know  it  well,  sir !  I  have  seen  women  as 
beautiful,  as  amiable,  and  as  accomplished;  but  I  never,  no, 
never  met  with  one  so  '  altogether  lovely '  as  Bee !  And  I  thank 
you,  sir!  Oh,  I  thank  you  more  than  tongue  can  tell  for  the 
boon  you  have  granted  me.  You  will  not  lose  your  daughter, 
BIT;  but  you  will  gain  a  son;  and  I  will  be  a  true  son  to  you? 


30          SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

sir,  as  Heaven  hears  me!  And  to  her  I  will  be  a  true  lover  and 
husband.  Her  happiness  shall  be  the  very  first  object  in  my 
life,  sir;  nothing  in  this  world  over  which  I  have  the  slightest 
control  shall  be  suffered  to  come  into  competition  with  it." 

"  I  am — I  am  sure  of  that,  my  boy !  "  replied  Mr.  Middleton, 
in  a  broken  voice. 

"And  I  do  not  presume  to  wish  to  hurry  either  you  or  her, 
sir ;  I  am  willing  to  wait  your  leisure  and  hers ;  all  I  want  now  is 
to  have  an  understanding  with  Bee,  and  to  be  admitted  to  the 
privileges  of  an  accepted  lover.  You  could  trust  me  so  far, 
sir?" 

"  Trust  you  so  far !  Why,  Ishmael,  there  is  no  limit  to  my 
trust  in  you !  " 

"And  Mrs.  Middleton,  sir?" 

"Why,  Ishmael,  she  loves  you  as  one  of  her  own  children; 
and  I  do  think  you  would  disappoint  and  grieve  her  if  you 
•were  to  marry  out  of  the  family.  I  will  break  the  matter  to 
Mrs.  Middleton.  Go  find  Bee,  and  speak  to  her  of  this  matter, 
and  when  you  have  won  her  consent,  bring  her  to  me  that  I 
may  join  your  hands  and  bless  your  betrothal." 

Ishmael  fervently  pressed  the  hand  of  his  kind  friend  and 
left  him. 

Of  course  Bee,  who  was  still  busy  with  her  maids  in  the  store 
room,  was  not  to  be  spoken  to  on  that  subject  at  that  hour.  But 
Ishmael  went  up  to  his  own  room  to  reflect. 

Perhaps  the  whole  key  to  Ishmael's  conduct  in  this  affair 
might  have  been  found  in  the  words  he  used  when  pleading  with 
his  father  the  cause  of  the  Countess  of  Hurstmonceux ;  he  said : 

"It  seems  to  me,  if  any  young  lady  had  loved  me  so,  I  must 
have  loved  her  fondly  in  return ;  I  could  not  have  helped  doing 

80." 

And  he  could  not.  There  was  something  too  warm,  gen 
erous,  and  noble  in  Nora's  son  to  be  so  insensible  as  all  that. 

His  inspiration  also  instructed  him  that  not  the  beautiful 
and  imperious  Claudia,  but  the  lovely  and  loving  Bee  was  his 
Heaven-appointed  wife. 

He  was  inspired  when  in  his  agony  that  dreadful  night  he 
had  cried  out :  "  By  a  woman  came  sin  and  death  into  the 
world,  and  by  a  woman  came  redemption  and  salvation!  Oh! 
Claudia,  my  Eve,  farewell !  And  Bee,  my  Mary,  hail !  " 

And  now  that  he  was  about  to  betroth  himself  to  Bee,  and 
make  her  happy,  he  himself  felt  happier  than  he  had  been  for 


SECOND    LOVE.  31 

many  days.    He  felt  sure,  too,  that  when  his  heart  should  re 
cover  from  its  wounds  he  should  love  Bee  with  a  deeper,  higher, 
purer,  and  more  lasting  affection  than  ever  his  fiero/  jpassion 
for  Claudia  could  have  become. 
s  ( 

CHAPTER  V. 

SECOND  LOVE. 

The  maiden  loved  the  young  man  well, 

And  pined  for  many  a  day, 
Because  that  star-eyed,  queenly  belle 

Had  won  his  heart  away. 
But  now  the  young  man  chooses  well 

Between  the  beauteous  pair, 
The  proud  and  brilliant  dark-haired  belle, 

And  gentle  maiden  fair. 

— M.  F.  Tup*&, 

After  tea  Ishmael,  having  missed  Bee  from  the  drawing 
room,  went  out  into  the  garden,  expecting  to  find  hei  there. 
Not  seeing  her,  he  walked  up  and  down  the  gravel  walk,  ^  raiting 
for  her  appearance. 

Presently  she  came  up,  softly  and  silently,  and  join(  d  him. 

"  Thanks,  dearest  Bee,"  he  said,  as  he  drew  her  arit  within 
his  own. 

"  It  is  a  beautiful  evening,  Ishmael ;  I  have  never  sv  ten  the 
garden  look  more  lovely,"  said  Bee. 

And  it  was  indeed  a  beautiful  evening  and  a  Jovety  scene. 
Th«  sun  had  just  set;  but  all  the  western  horizon  f<jd  the 
•waters  of  the  distant  river  were  aflame  with  crimson  Ire  of 
his  reflected  rays;  while  over  the  eastern  hills  the  mo  Dn  and 
stars  were  shining  from  the  dark  gray  heavens.  In  the  i  garden, 
the  shrubs  and  flowers,  not  yet  damp  with  dew,  \rere  i  anding 
forth  their  richest  fragrance;  the  latest  birds  were  twi  ;tering 
softly  before  settling  themselves  to  sleep  in  their  leaf>  nests; 
and  the  earliest  insects  were  tuning  up  their  tiny,  gleef ti  1  pipes 
before  commencing  their  evening  concert. 

"  This  garden  is  a  very  pleasant  place,  quite  as  pleg  jant  as 
Tanglewood,  if  uncle  would  only  think  so,"  said  Bee. 

"  Yes,  it  is  very  pleasant.  You  do  not  like  the  plai,  of  re 
turning  to  the  country,  Bee  ? "  said  Ishmael. 

"No,  indeed,  I  do  not;  breaking  up  and  parting  is  Always 
a  painful  process."  And  Bee's  lips  quivered  and  the  tea/3  came 
into  her  eyes. 


32          SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

Ishmael  pressed  the  little  hand  that  lay  light  as  a  snowflaka 
on  his  arm,  drew  it  closer  within  his  embrace,  and  turned  down 
the  narrow  path  that  led  to  the  remote  arbor  situated  far  down 
in  the  angle  of  the  wall  in  the  bottom  of  the  garden. 

He  led  her  to  a  seat,  placed  himself  beside  her,  took  her  hand, 
and  said: 

"  It  is  here,  dearest  Bee — here  in  the  scene  of  my  humiliation 
and  of  my  redemption — that  I  would  say  to  you  all  I  have  to 
say;  that  I  would  lay  my  heart  open  before  you,  and  place  it 
at  your  feet,  for  spurning,  or  for  blessing." 

She  looked  up  at  him  with  surprise,  but  also  with  infinite 
affection  in  her  innocent  and  beautiful  eyes.  Then,  as  she  read 
the  truth  in  his  earnest  gaze,  her  eyes  fell,  and  her  color  rose. 

"And  dearest  Bee,  I  have  your  father's  sanction  for  what  I 
do,  for  without  it  I  would  not  act." 

Her  eyes  were  still  fixed  upon  the  ground,  but  her  hand  that 
he  clasped  in  his  throbbed  like  a  heart.  And  oh!  he  felt  how 
entirely  she  loved  him;  and  he  felt  that  he  could  devote  his 
whole  life  to  her. 

"  Dearest  of  all  dear  ones,  Bee,  listen  to  me.  Not  many  days 
have  passed,  since,  one  evening,  you  came  to  this  arbor,  seeking 
one  that  was  lost  and  found — me !  " 

She  began  to  tremble. 

"  You  know  how  you  found  me,  Bee,"  he  said  sadly  and 
solemnly. 

"  Oh,  Ishmael,  dear ! "  she  cried,  with  an  accent  of  sharp 
pain,  " do  not  speak  of  that  evening!  forget  it  and  let  me  forget 
it!  it  is  past! " 

"  Dearest  girl,  only  this  once  will  I  pain  you  by  alluding  to 
that  sorrowful  and  degrading  hour.  You  found  me — I  will 
not  shrink  from  uttering  the  word,  though  it  will  scorch  my 
lips  to  speak  it,  and  burn  your  ears  to  hear  it — you  found  me — 
intoxicated." 

"  Oh,  Ishmael,  dear,  you  were  not  to  blame !  it  was  not  yonr 
fault !  it  was  an  accident — a  misfortune !  "  she  exclaimed,  as 
blushes  burned  upon  her  cheeks  and  tears  suffused  her  eyes. 

"How  much  I  blamed,  how  much  I  loathed  myself,  dearest 
Bee,  you  can  never  know!  Let  that  pass.  You  found  me  as  I 
said.  Actually  and  bodily  I  was  lying  on  this  bench,  sleeping 
the  stupid  sleep  of  intoxication;  but  morally  and  spiritually  I 
was  slipping  over  the  brink  of  an  awful  chasm.  Bee,  dearest 
Bee !  dearest  saving  angel !  it  was  this  little  hand  of  yours  that 


SECOND   LOVE.  33 

drew  me  back,  so  softly  that  I  scarcely  knew  I  had  been  in 
danger  of  ruin  until  that  danger  was  past.  And,  Bee,  since 
that  day  many  days  of  storm  have  passed,  but  the  face  of  my 
saving  angel  has  ever  looked  out  from  among  the  darkest 
clouds  a  bright  rainbow  of  promise.  I  did  not  perish  in  the 
storm,  because  her  sweet  face  ever  looked  down  upon  me ! " 

Bee  did  not  attempt  to  reply ;  she  could  not ;  she  sat  with  her 
flushed  and  tearful  eyes  bent  upon  the  ground. 

"  Love,  do  you  know  this  token  ? "  he  inquired,  in  a  voice 
shaking  with  agitation,  as  he  drew  from  his  bosom  a  little 
wisp  of  white  cambric  and  laid  it  in  her  lap. 

"  It  is  my — my "  she  essayed  to  answer,  but  her  ycice 

failed. 

"  It  is  your  dear  handkerchief,"  he  said,  as  he  took  it,  pressed 
it  to  his  lips,  and  replaced  it  in  his  bosom.  "It  is  your  dear 
handkerchief!  When  you  found  me  as  you  did,  in  your  loving 
kindness  you  laid  it  over  my  face — mine !  so  utterly  unworthy 
to  be  so  delicately  veiled!  Oh,  Bee,  if  I  could  express  to  you 
all  I  felt!  all  I  thought!  when  I  recognized  this  dear  token 
and  so  discovered  who  it  was  that  had  sought  me  when  I  was 
lost,  and  dropped  tears  of  sorrow  over  me !  and  then  covered  my 
face  from  the  blistering  sun  and  the  stinging  flies — if  I  could 
tell  you  all  that  I  suffered  and  resolved,  then  you  would  feel 
and  know  how  earnest  and  sincere  is  the  heart  that  at  last — 
at  last,  my  darling,  I  lay  at  your  beloved  feet." 

She  looked  up  at  him  for  a  moment  and  breathed  a  single 
word — a  name  that  seemed  to  escape  her  lips  quite  involuntarily 
— "  Claudia !  " 

"  Yes,  my  darling,"  he  said,  in  tones  vibrating  with  emotion, 
"it  is  as  you  suppose,  or  rather  it  was  so!  You  have  divined 
my  secret,  which  indeed  I  never  intended  to  keep  as  a  secret 
from  you.  Yes,  Bee;  I  loved  another  before  loving  yon.  I 
loved  her  whom  you  have  just  named.  I  love  her  no  longer. 
When  by  her  marriage  with  another  my  love  would  have  become 
sinful,  it  was  sentenced  to  death  and  executed.  But,  Bee,  it 
died  hard,  very  hard ;  and  in  its  violent  death-throes  it  rent  and 
tore  my  heart,  as  the  evil  spirit  did  the  possessed  man,  when  it 
was  driven  out  of  him.  Bee,  my  darling,"  said  Ishmael,  smil 
ing  for  the  first  time  since  commencing  the  interview,  "  this 
may  seem  to  you  a  very  fanciful  way  of  putting  the  case;  but 
is  a  good  one,  for  in  no  other  manner  could  I  give  you  to  under 
stand  how  terrible  my  sufferings  have  been  for  the  last  few 


84          SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

weeks,  how  completely  my  evil  passion  has  perished;  and  yet 
how  sore  and  weak  it  has  left  my  heart.  Bee,  it  is  this  heart, 
wounded  and  bleeding  from  a  dead  love,  yet  true  and  single 
in  its  affection  for  you,  that  I  open  before  you  and  lay  at  your 
feet.  Spurn  it  away  from  you,  Bee,  and  I  cannot  blame  you. 
Raise  it  to  your  own  and  I  shall  love  and  bless  you." 

Bee  burst  into  tears. 

He  put  his  arm  around  her  and  drew  her  to  his  side  and  she 
dropped  her  head  upon  his  shoulder  and  wept  passionately. 
Many  times  she  tried  to  speak,  but  failed.  At  last,  when  she 
had  exhausted  all  her  passion,  she  raised  her  head  from  its  rest 
ing-place.  He  wiped  the  tears  from  her  eyes  and  stooping, 
whispered : 

"  You  will  not  reject  me,  Bee,  because  I  loved  another  woman 
once?" 

"  No,"  she  answered  softly,  "  for  if  you  loved  another  woman 
before  me,  you  could  not  help  it,  Ishmael.  It  is  not  that  I  am 
concerned  about." 

"What  then,  dearest  love?     Speak  out,"  he  whispered. 

"Oh,  Ishmael,  tell  me  truly  one  thing;"  and  she  hid  her 
face  on  his  shoulder  while  she  breathed  the  question :  "  Isn't 
it  only  for  my  sake,  to  please  me  and  make  me  happy,  that  you 
offer  me  your  love,  Ishmael  ?  "  She  spoke  so  low,  with  her  face 
so  muffled  on  his  shoulder,  that  he  scarcely  understood  her-  so 
he  bent  his  head  and  inquired: 

"  What  is  it  that  you  say,  dear  Bee  ? " 

She  tried  to  speak  more  clearly,  for  it  seemed  with  her  a 
point  of  principle  to  put  this  question;  but  her  voice  was,  if 
possible,  lower  and  more  agitated  than  before,  so  that  he  had 
to  stoop  closely  and  listen  intently  to  catch  her  words  as  she 
answered : 

"  Do  you  not  offer  me  your  love,  only  because — because  you 
have  found  out — found  out  somehow  or  other  that  I — that  I 
loved  you  first  ?  " 

He  clasped  her  suddenly  close  to  his  heart,  and  whispered 
eagerly : 

"  I  offer  you  my  love  because  I  love  you,  best  and  dearest  of 
all  dear  ones ! "  And  he  felt  at  that  moment  that  he  did  love 
her  entirely. 

She  was  sobbing  softly  on  his  shoulder ;  but  presently  through 
her  tears  she  said: 

"  And  will  my  love  do  you  any  good,  make  you  any  happier, 


SECOND    LOVE.  35 

compensate  you  a  little  for  all  that  you  have  missed  in  losing 
that  brilliant  one  ?  " 

He  held  her  closely  to  his  heart  while  he  stooped  and  an 
swered  : 

"Dearest,  your  love  has  always  been  the  greatest  earthly 
blessing  Heaven  ever  bestowed  upon  my  life !  I  thank  Heaven 
that  the  blindness  and  madness  of  my  heart  is  past  and  gone, 
and  I  am  enabled  to  see  and  understand  this!  Your  love,  Bee, 
is  the  only  earthly  thing  that  can  comfort  all  the  sorrows  that 
may  come  into  my  life,  or  crown  all  its  joys.  You  will  believe 
this,  dearest  Bee,  when  you  remember  that  I  never  in  my  life 
varied  from  the  truth  to  anyone,  and  least  of  all  would  I  pre 
varicate  with  you.  I  love  you.  Bee,  let  those  three  words  an 
swer  all  your  doubts !  " 

Brightly  and  beautifully  she  smiled  up  at  him  through  her 
tears. 

"  All  is  well,  then,  Ishmael !  For  all  that  I  desire  in  this 
world  is  the  privilege  of  making  you  happy ! " 

"  Then  you  are  my  own ! "  he  said,  stooping  and  kissing  the 
sparkling  tears  that  hung  like  dew-drops  on  the  red  roses  of 
her  cheeks;  and  holding  her  to  his  heart,  in  profound  religious 
joy  and  gratitude,  he  bowed  his  head  and  said : 

"  Oh,  Father  in  Heaven !  how  I  thank  thee  for  this  deaa* 
girl!  Oh,  make  me  every  day  more  worthy  of  her  love,  and  of 
thy  many  blessings !  " 

And  soon  after  this  Ishmael,  happier  than  he  ever  thought 
it  possible  to  be  in  this  world,  led  forth  from  the  arbor  his  be 
trothed  bride. 

He  led  her  at  once  to  the  house  and  to  the  presence  of  her 
parents,  whom  he  found  in  their  private  sitting  room. 

Standing  before  them  and  holding  her  hand,  he  said: 

"  She  has  promised  to  be  my  wife,  and  we  are  here  for  your 
blessing." 

"  You  have  it,  my  children !  You  have  it  with  all  my  heart ! 
May  the  Lord  in  heaven  bless  with  his  choicest  blessings  Ish 
mael  and  Beatrice !  "  said  Mr.  Middleton  earnestly. 

"  Amen,"  said  Mrs.  Middleton. 

Later  in  the  evening  Judge  Merlin  was  informed  of  the  en 
gagement.  And  after  congratulating  the  betrothed  pair  he 
turned  to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Middleton  and  said : 

"  Heaven  knows  how  I  envy  you  your  son-in-law." 

The  gratified  parents  smiled,  for  they  were  proud  of  Ishmael, 


36  SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

and  what  he  would  become.  But  Walter  Middleton  grinned 
and  said: 

"Heaven  may  know  that,  Uncle  Merlin;  but  I  know  one 
thing!" 

"What  is  that,  Jackanapes?" 

"I  know  they  may  thank  Bee  for  their  son-in-law,  for  she 
did  all  the  courting!" 

The  panic-stricken  party  remained  silent  for  a  moment,  and 
then  Judge  Merlin  said: 

"  Well,  sir !  I  know  another  thing !  " 

"  And  what  is  that,  uncle  ?  " 

"  That  it  will  be  a  long  time  before  you  find  a  young  lady  to 
do  you  such  an  honor !  " 

Everybody  laughed,  not  at  the  brilliancy  of  the  joke,  for  the 
joke  was  not  brilliant,  but  because  they  were  happy;  and  when 
people  are  happy  they  do  honor  to  very  indifferent  jests. 

But  Bee  turned  a  ludicrously  appalled  look  upon  her  lover 
and  whispered: 

"  Oh,  Ishmael !  suppose  he  had  known  about  that  little  bit 
of  white  cambric.  He  would  have  said  that  I  had  '  thrown  the 
handkerchief  to  you!  And  so  I  did!  it  is  a  dreadful  reflec 
tion!" 

"  That  handkerchief  was  a  plank  thrown  to  the  drowning, 
Bee.  It  saved  me  from  being  whelmed  in  the  waves  of  ruin. 
Oh,  dearest,  under  heaven,  you  were  my  salvation ! "  said  Ish 
mael,  with  emotion. 

"Your  comfort,  Ishmael — only  your  comfort.  Your  own 
right-mindedness,  '  under  heaven,'  would  have  saved  you." 

This  was  the  last  and  the  happiest  evening  they  all  spent 
at  the  city  home  together.  Early  in  the  morning  they  separated. 

Judge  Merlin  and  his  servants  started  for  Tanglewood,  and 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Middleton  and  their  family  for  The  Beacon, 
•where  Ishmael  promised  as  soon  as  possible  to  join  them.  Wal 
ter  Middleton  left  for  Saratoga.  And,  last  of  all,  Ishmael  locked 
up  the  empty  house,  took  charge  of  the  key,  and  departed  to 
take  possession  of  his  new  lodgings — alone,  but  blessed  and 
happy. 


AT   WOODSIDE.  87 

CHAPTEK  VL 

AT  WOODSIDE. 

Who  can  describe  the  sweets  of  country  life 
But  those  blest  men  that  do  enjoy  and  taste  them? 
Plain  husbandmen,  though  far  below  our  pitch 
Of  fortune  placed,  enjoy  a  wealth  above  us: 
They  breathe  a  fresh  and  uncorrupted  air, 
And  in  sweet  homes  enjoy  untroubled  sleep. 
Their  state  is  fearless  and  seciire,  enriched 
With  several  blessings  such  as  greatest  kings 
Might  in  true  justice  envy,  and  themselves 
Would  count  too  happy  if  they  truly  knew  them. 

— May. 

Ishmael  was  settled  in  his  new  apartments  on  the  first  floor 
of  a  comfortable  house  on  Louisiana  Avenue.  The  front  room 
opening  upon  the  street,  and  having  his  name  and  profession 
engraved  upon  a  silver  plate  attached  to  the  door,  was  his  pub 
lic  office;  the  middle  room  was  his  private  office;  and  the  back 
room,  which  opened  upon  a  pleasant  porch  leading  into  the  gar 
den,  was  his  bed-chamber. 

The  house  was  kept  by  two  sisters,  maiden  ladies  of  venera 
ble  age,  who  took  no  other  boarders  or  lodgers. 

So,  upon  the  whole,  Ishmael's  quarters  were  very  comfortable. 

The  rapid  increase  of  his  business  justified  him  in  taking 
a  clerk;  and  then  in  a  week  or  two,  as  he  saw  this  clerk  over 
tasked,  he  took  a  second;  both  young  men  who  had  not  been 
very  successful  barristers,  but  who  were  very  good  office  lawyers. 

And  Ishmael's  affairs  went  on   "swimmingly." 

Of  course  there  were  hours  when  he  sadly  missed  the  com 
panionship  of  the  congenial  family  circle  with  whom  he  had 
been  so  long  connected ;  but  Ishmael  was  not  one  to  murmur 
over  the  ordinary  troubles  of  life.  He  rather  made  the  best  ol 
his  position  and  steadily  looked  on  the  bright  side. 

Besides,  he  maintained  a  regular  correspondence  with  his 
friends.  That  correspondence  was  the  only  recreation  and 
solace  he  allowed  himself. 

Almost  every  day  he  wrote  to  Bee,  and  he  received  answers 
to  every  one  of  his  letters — answers  full  of  affection,  encour 
agement,  and  cheerfulness. 

And  at  least  once  a  week  he  got  letters  from  Judge  Merlin, 
Mr.  Middleton,  and  Mr.  Brudenell,  all  of  whom  continued  to 


38  SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS 

urge  him  to  pay  them  visits  as  soon  as  his  business  would  per 
mit.  Only  one  more  letter  he  got  from  Reuben  Gray ;  for  letter 
writing  was  to  poor  Reuben  a  most  difficult  and  dreaded  task; 
and  this  one  was  merely  to  say  that  they  should  expect  Ishmael 
down  soon. 

From  Judge  Merlin's  letters  it  appeared  that  Lord  and  Lady 
Vincent  had  extended  their  tour  into  Canada  East,  and  were 
now  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  "  Thousand  Isles ,"  but  that  they 
expected  to  visit  the  judge  at  Tanglewood  some  time  during  the 
autumn ;  after  which  they  intended  to  sail  for  Europe. 

Ishmael  continued  to  push  his  business  for  six  or  seven  weeks, 
BO  that  it  was  near  the  first  of  September  before  he  found  leis 
ure  to  take  a  holiday  and  pay  his  promised  visits. 

Two  weeks  was  the  utmost  length  of  time  he  could  allow  him 
self.  And  there  were  four  places  that  seemed  to  have  equal 
claims  upon  his  society.  Where  should  he  go  first?  Truly 
Ishmael  was  embarrassed  with  the  riches  of  his  friendships. 

At  Woodside  were  Plannah  and  Reuben,  who  had  cared  for 
him  in  his  orphaned  infancy,  and  who  really  seemed  to  have  the 
first  right  to  him. 

And  at  Tanglewood  Judge  Merlin  was  alone,  moping  for  the 
want  of  his  lost  daughter  and  needing  the  consolation  of  a 
visit  from  Ishmael. 

At  the  Beacon  was  his  betrothed  bride,  who  was  also  anxious 
to  see  him. 

And  finally,  at  Brudenell  Hall  was  Herman  Brudenell;  and 
Herman  Brudenell  was — his  father! 

After  a  little  reflection  Ishmael's  right-mindedness  decided 
in  favor  of  Woodside.  Hannah  had  stood  in  his  mother's  place 
towards  him,  and  to  Hannah  he  would  go  first. 

So,  to  get  there  by  the  shortest  route,  Ishmael  took  passage 
in  the  little  steamer  "  Errand  Boy,"  that  left  Georgetown  every 
week  for  the  mouth  of  the  river,  stopping  at  all  the  inter 
vening  landing-places. 

Ishmael  started  on  Friday  morning  and  on  Saturday  after 
noon  was  set  ashore  at  Shelton,  whence  a  pleasant  walk  of  three 
miles  through  the  forest  that  bordered  the  river  brought  him  to 
Woodside. 

Clean  and  cheerful  was  the  cottage,  gleaming  whitely  forth 
here  and  there  from  its  shadowy  green  foliage  and  clustering 
red  roses.  The  cottage  and  the  fence  had  been  repainted,  and 
the  gravel  walk  that  led  from  the  wicket-gate  to  the  front  door 


AT    WOODSIDE.  39 

had  been  trimmed  and  rolled.  And  very  dainty  looked  the 
white,  fringed  curtains  and  the  green  paper  blinds  at  the  front 
windows. 

Evidently  everything  had  been  brightened  up  and  put  into 
holiday  attire  to  welcome  Ishmael. 

While  his  hand  was  on  the  latch  of  the  gate  he  was  per 
ceived  from  within,  and  the  front  door  flew  open  and  all  the 
family  rushed  out  to  receive  him — Reuben  and  Hannah,  and 
the  two  children  and  Sally  and  the  dog — the  latter  was  as  noisy 
and  sincere  in  his  welcome  as  any  of  the  human  friends,  bark 
ing  round  and  round  the  group  to  express  his  sympathy  and  joy 
and  congratulations. 

"  I  telled  Hannah  how  you'd  come  to  us  fust ;  I  did !  Didn't 
I,  Hannah,  my  dear  ? "  said  Reuben  triumphantly,  as  he  shook 
both  Ishmael's  hands  with  an  energy  worthy  of  a  blacksmith, 

"  Well,  I  knew  he  would  too !  It  didn't  need  a  prophet  nor 
one  to  rise  from  the  dead  to  tell  us  that  Ishmael  would  be  true 
to  his  old  friends,"  said  Hannah,  pushing  Reuben  away  and 
embracing  Ishmael  with  a 

"  How  do  you  do,  my  boy  ?  You  look  better  than  I  expected 
to  see  you  after  your  hard  year's  work." 

"  Oh,  I  am  all  right,  thank  you,  Aunt  Hannah.  Coming  to 
see  you  has  set  me  up !  "  laughed  Ishmael,  cordially  returning 
her  embrace. 

"  You,  Sally !  what  are  you  doing  there  ?  grinning  like  a 
monkey?  Go  directly  and  make  the  kettle  boil,  and  set  the 
table.  And  tell  that  Jim,  that's  always  loafing  around  you, 
to  make  himself  useful  as  well  as  ornamental,  and  open  them 
oysters  that  were  brought,  from  Cove  Banks  to-day.  Why  don't 
you  go  ?  what  are  you  waiting  for  ?  " 

"  Please  'm,  I  hav'n't  shook  hands  long  o'  Marse  Ishmael 
yet,"  said  Sally,  showing  all  her  fine  ivories. 

Ishmael  stepped  forward  and  held  out  his  hand,  saying,  as  he 
kindly  shook  the  girl's  fat  paw: 

"  How  do  you  do,  Sally  ?  You  grow  better  looking  every  day  1 
And  I  have  got  a  pretty  coral  breastpin  in  my  trunk  for  you, 
to  make  up  for  that  one  the  shanghai  swallowed." 

"  Oh,  Marse  Ishmael,  you  needn't  have  taken  no  trouble,  not 
on  my  account,  sir,  I  am  sure ;  dough  I'm  thousand  times  obleege 
to  you,  and  shall  be  proud  o'  de  breas'pin,  'cause  I  does  love 
breas'pins,  'specially  coral,"  said  Sally,  courtesying  and  smiling 
all  over  her  face. 


iO          SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

"Well,  well,"  said  Hannah  impatiently,  "now  be  off  with 
you  directly,  and  show  your  thankfulness  by  getting  supper  for 
your  Marse  Ishmael  as  quick  as  ever  you  can.  Never  mind 
the  table— I'll  set  that." 

Sally  dropped  another  courtesy  and  vanished. 

"  Where  did  you  say  your  trunk  was,  Ishmael  ? "  inquired 
Gray,  as  they  walked  into  the  house. 

"He  never  said  it  was  anywhere;  he  only  said  he  had  a  coral 
breastpin  in  it  for  Sally,"  put  in  the  literal  Hannah. 

"  My  trunk  is  at  the  Steamboat  Hotel  in  Shelton,  Uncle 
Reuben.  I  could  not  at  once  find  a  cart  to  bring  it  over,  for 
I  was  too  anxious  to  see  you  all  to  spend  time  looking  for  one. 
So  I  left  it  with  the  landlord,  with  orders  to  forward  it  on 
Monday." 

"Oh,  sho!  And  what  are  you  to  do  in  the  meantime?  And 
Sally  '11  go  crazy  for  a  sight  of  her  breastpin!  So  I'll  just  go 
out  and  make  Sam  put  the  horse  to  the  light  wagon,  and  go  right 
arter  it;  he'll  jest  have  time  to  go  and  get  it  and  come  back 
afore  it's  dark,"  said  Reuben ;  and  without  waiting  to  hear  any 
of  Ishmael's  remonstrances,  he  went  out  immediately  to  give 
his  orders  to  Sam. 

Hannah  followed  Ishmael  up  to  his  own  old  room  in  the 
garret,  to  see  that  he  had  fresh  water,  fine  soap,  clean  towels, 
and  all  that  was  requisite  for  his  comfort. 

And  then  leaving  him  to  refresh  himself  with  a  wash,  she 
returned  downstairs  to  set  the  table  for  tea. 

By  the  time  she  had  laid  her  best  damask  table-cloth,  and 
set  out  her  best  japan  waiter  and  china  tea-set,  and  put  her 
nicest  preserves  in  cut  glass  saucers,  and  set  the  iced  plumcake 
in  the  middle  of  the  table,  Ishmael,  looking  fresh  from  his  re 
newed  toilet,  came  down  into  the  parlor. 

She  immediately  drew  forward  the  easiest  arm-chair  for  his 
accommodation. 

He  sat  down  in  it  and  called  the  two  children  and  the  dog, 
who  all  gathered  around  him  for  their  share  of  his  caresses. 

And  at  the  same  moment  Reuben,  having  dispatched  Sam 
on  his  errand  to  Shelton,  came  in  and  sat  down,  with  his  big 
hands  on  his  knees,  and  his  head  bent  forward,  contemplating 
the  group  around  Ishmael  with  immense  satisfaction. 

Hannah  was  going  in  and  out  between  the  parlor  and  the 
pantry  bringing  cream,  butter,  butter-milk,  and  so  forth. 

Ishmael  lifted  John  upon  his  knees,  and  while  smoothing 


AT    WOOD8IDE.  41 

back  the  flaxen  curls  from  the  child's  well-shaped  forehead, 
said: 

"  This  little  fellow  has  got  a  great  deal  in  this  head  of  his  t 
What  do  you  intend  to  make  of  him,  Uncle  Reuben  ?  " 

"  Law,  Ishmael,  how  can  I  tell  !  "  grinned  Reuben. 

"  You  should  give  him  an  education  and  fit  him  for  one  of 
the  learned  professions;  or,  no;  I  will  do  that,  if  Heaven  spares 
us  both!"  said  Ishmael  benevolently;  then  smiling  down  upon 
the  child,  he  said: 

"What  would  you  like  to  be  when  you  grow  up,  Johnny?" 

"I  don't  know,"  answered  inexperience, 

"  Would  you  like  to  be  a  lawyer  2  " 

"  No."     i 

"Why  not?" 

"  'Cause  I  wouldn't." 

"  Satisfactory!    Would  you  like  to  be  a  doctor?" 

"  No." 

"Why?" 

"  'Cause  I  wouldn't." 

"  'As  before.'    Would  you  like  to  be  a  parson?  ** 

«  No." 

"Why?" 

"  'Cause  I  wouldn't." 

"  Sharp  little  fellow,  isn't  he,  Ishmael  ?  Got  his  answer  ai» 
ways  ready  !  "  said  the  father,  rubbing  his  knees  in  delight. 

Ishmael  smiled  at  Reuben  Gray  and  then  turned  to  the  child 
and  said: 

"What  would  you  like  to  be,  Johnny?" 
'  "  Well,  I'd  like  to  be  a  cart-driver  like  Sam,  and  drive  the  ox 


"  Aspiring  young  gentleman  !  "  said  Ishmael,  smiling. 

"  There  now,"  said  Hannah,  who  had  heard  the  latter  part  of 
this  conversation,  "  that's  what  I  tell  Reuben.  He  needn't 
think  he  is  going  to  make  ladies  and  gentlemen  out  of  our 
children.  They  are  just  good  honest  workman's  children,  and 
will  always  be  so  ;  for  '  what's  bred  in  the  bone  will  never  come 
out  in  the  flesh  '  ;  and  '  trot  mammy,  trot  daddy,  the  colt  will 
never  pace.'  Cart-driver  !  "  mocked  Hannah,  in  intense  disgusts 

"  Nonsense,  Aunt  Hannah  !  Why,  don't  you  know  that  when 
I  was  Johnny's  age  my  highest  earthly  ambition  was  to  become 
a  professor  of  odd  jobs,  like  the  renowned  Jim  Morris,  who 
was  certainly  the  greatest  man  of  my  acquaintance  1  " 


42  SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

While  they  were  chatting  away  in  this  manner  Sally  brougKB 
in  the  coffee  and  tea,  which  was  soon  followed  by  dishes  of 
fried  oysters,  stewed  oysters,  fried  ham,  and  broiled  chicken, 
and  plates  of  waffles,  rolls,  and  biscuits,  and  in  fact  by  all  the 
luxuries  of  a  Maryland  supper. 

Hannah  took  her  place  at  the  head  of  the  table  and  called 
her  family  around  her. 

And  all  sat  down  at  the  board.  Even  the  dog  squatted  himself 
down  by  the  side  of  Ishmael,  where  he  knew  he  was  sure  of  good 
treatment.  Sally,  neatly  dressed,  waited  on  the  table.  And 
presently  Jim,  who  had  a  holiday  this  Saturday  evening  and  was 
spending  it  with  Sally,  came  in,  and  after  shaking  hands  with 
"  Mr.  Ishmael "  and  welcoming  him  to  the  neighborhood,  stood 
behind  his  chair  and  anticipated  his  wants  as  if  he,  Jim,  had 
been  lord-in-waiting  upon  a  prince. 

When  supper  was  over  and  the  service  cleared  away,  Ishmael, 
Reuben,  Hannah,  and  the  children,  who  had  been  allowed  to 
sit  up  a  little  longer  in  honor  of  Ishmael's  visit,  gathered  to 
gether  on  the  front  porch  to  enjoy  the  delicious  coolness  of  tha 
clear,  starlit,  summer  evening. 

While  they  were  still  sitting  there,  chatting  over  the  old 
times  and  the  new  days,  the  sound  of  wheels  were  heard  ap 
proaching,  and  Sam  drove  up  in  the  wagon,  in  which  was  Ish- 
mael's  trunk  and  a  large  box. 

Jim  was  called  in  from  the  kitchen,  where  he  had  been  en 
gaged  in  making  love  to  Sally,  to  assist  in  lifting  the  luggage  in. 

The  trunk  and  the  box  were  deposited  in  the  middle  of  the 
parlor  floor  to  be  opened, — because,  forsooth,  all  that  simple 
family  wished  to  be  present  and  look  on  at  the  opening. 

Ishmael's  personal  effects  were  in  the  trunk  they  guessed; 
but  what  was  in  the  box?  that  was  the  riddle  and  they  could 
not  solve  it.  Both  the  children  pressed  forward  to  see.  Even 
the  dog  stood  with  his  ears  pricked,  his  nose  straight  and  his 
eyes  fixed  on  the  interesting  box  as  though. he  expected  a  fox 
to  break  cover  from  it  as  soon  as  it  was  opened. 

Ishmael  had  mercy  on  their  curiosity  and  ended  their  sus 
pense  by  ripping  off  the  cover. 

And  lo!  a  handsome  hobby-horse  which  he  took  out  and  set 
up  before  the  delighted  eyes  of  Johnny. 

He  lifted  the  tiny  man  into  the  saddle,  fixed  his  feet  in  the 
stirrups,  gave  him  the  bridle,  and  showed  him  how  to  manage 
his  steet'. 


AT   WOODSIDE.  43 

u  There,  Johnny,"  said  Ishmael,  "  I  cannot  realize  your  aspi 
rations  in  respect  to  the  driver's  seat  on  the  ox-cart,  but  I 
think  this  will  do  for  the  present." 

"  Ah,  yes ! "  cried  the  ecstatic  Johnny,  "  put  Molly  up  be 
hind  !  put  Molly  up  behind  and  let  her  sit  and  hold  on  to  me ! 
My  horse  can  carry  double." 

"  Never  mind !  I've  got  something  for  Molly  that  she  will 
like  better  than  that,"  said  Ishmael,  smiling  kindly  on  the  little 
girl,  who  stood  with  her  finger  in  her  mouth  looking  as  if  she 
thought  herself  rather  neglected. 

And  he  unlocked  his  trunk  and  took  from  the  top  of  it  a 
large,  finely  painted,  substantially  dressed  wooden  doll,  that 
looked  as  if  it  could  bear  a  great  deal  of  knocking  about  with 
out  injury. 

Molly  made  an  impulsive  spring  towards  this  treasure,  and 
was  immediately  rendered  happy  by  its  possession. 

Then  Sally  was  elevated  to  the  seventh  heaven  by  the  gift  of 
the  coral  breastpin. 

Hannah  received  a  handsome  brown  silk  dress  and  Reuben 
a  new  writing-desk,  and  Sam  a  silver  watch,  and  Jim  a  showy 
vest-pattern. 

And  Ishmael,  having  distributed  his  presents,  ordered  his 
trunk  to  be  carried  upstairs,  and  the  box  into  the  outhouse. 

When  the  children  were  tired  of  their  play  Hannah  took  them 
off  to  hear  them  say  their  prayers  and  put  them  to  bed. 

And  then  Ishmael  and  Reuben  were  left  alone. 

And  the  opportunity  that  Ishmael  wanted  had  come. 

He  could  have  spoken  of  his  parents  to  either  Hannah  or 
Reuben  separately;  but  he  felt  that  he  could  not  enter  upon  the 
subject  in  the  presence  of  both  together. 

Now  he  drew  his  chair  to  the  side  of  Gray  and  said: 

"  Uncle  Reuben,  I  have  something  serious  to  say  to  you." 

"  Eh !  Ishmael !  what  have  I  been  doing  of  ?  I  dessay  some 
thing  wrong  in  the  bringing  up  of  the  young  uns ! "  said  Reu 
ben,  in  dismay,  expecting  to  be  court-martialed  upon  some 
grave  charge. 

"  It  is  of  my  parents  that  I  wish  to  speak,  Uncle  Reuben." 

"  Oh ! "  said  the  latter,  with  an  air  of  relief. 

"You  knew  my  mother,  Uncle  Reuben;  but  did  you  know 
who  my  father  was  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Reuben  thoughtfully.  "  All  I  knowed  was  as 
he  married  of  your  mother  in  a  private  manner,  and  from  sar- 


44          SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

cumstances  never  owned  up  to  it;  but  left  her  name  and  yourn 
to  suffer  for  it — the  cowardly  rascal,  whoever  he  was !  " 

"Hush,  Uncle  Reuben,  hush!  You  are  speaking  of  my 
father!" 

"And  a  nice  father  he  wur  to  let  your  good  mother's  fair 
name  come  to  grief  and  leave  you  to  perish  a'most ! " 

"Uncle  Reuben,  you  know  too  little  of  the  circumstances 
to  be  able  to  judge !  " 

"Law,  Ishmael,  it  takes  but  little  knowledge  and  less  judg 
ment  to  understand,  as  when  a  feller  fersakes  his  wife  and 
child  for  nothink,  and  leaves  'em  to  suffer  undesarved  scandal 
and  cruel  want,  he  must  be  an  unnatural  monster  and  a  par- 
jured  vilyun ! " 

"  Uncle  Reuben,  you  are  unjust  to  my  father !  You  must 
listen  to  his  vindication  from  my  lips,  and  then  you  will  acquit 
him  of  all  blame.  But  first  I  must  tell  you  in  confidence  his 
name — it  is  Herman  Brudenell !  " 

"  There  now ! "  exclaimed  Reuben,  dropping  his  pipe  in  his 
astonishment;  "to  think  that  I  had  that  fact  right  afore  my 
eyes  all  my  life  and  never  could  see  it!  Well,  of  all  the  blind 
moles  and  owls,  I  must  a  been  the  blindest!  And  to  think  as 
I  was  the  very  first  as  warned  the  poor  girl  agin  him  at  that 
birthday  feast !  But,  law,  arter  that  I  never  saw  them  together 
agin,  no,  not  once!  So  I  had  no  cause  to  s'picion  him,  no  more 
nor  others !  Well  and  now,  Ishmael,  tell  me  all  how  and  about 
it !  Long  as  it  was  him,  Mr.  Herman,  there  must  a  been  some 
thing  uncommon  about  it,  for  I  don't  believe  he'd  do  anythink 
dishonorable,  not  if  he  knowed  it !  " 

"Not  if  he  knew  it!  You  are  right  there,  Uncle  Reuben," 
eaid  Ishmael,  who  immediately  related  the  tragic  story  of  his 
parents'  marriage,  ending  with  the  family  wreck  that  had  ruined 
all  their  happiness. 

"Dear  me!  dear,  dear  me!  what  a  sorrowful  story  for  all 
hands,  to  be  sure!  Well,  Ishmael,  \vhcever  was  most  to  be 
pitied  in  former  times,  your  father  is  most  to  be  pitied  now. 
Be  good  to  him,"  said  Reuben. 

"  You  may  be  sure  that  I  will  do  all  that  I  cnn  to  comfort  my 
father,  Uncle  Reuben.  And  now  a  word  to  you !  Speak  of  this 
matter  to  me  alone  whenever  you  like ;  or  to  Aunt  Hannah  alone 
whenever  you  like;  but  to  no  others;  and  not  even  to  us  when 
we  are  together!  for  I  cannot  bear  that  this  old  tragic  history 
should  become  the  subject  of  general  conversation." 


AT   WOODSIDE.  45 

"  I  know,  Ishmael,  my  boy,  I  know !  Muni's  the  word ! " 
said  Reuben. 

And  the  entrance  of  Hannah  at  that  moment  put  an  end  to 
the  conversation. 

There  was  one  subject  upon  which  Ishmael  felt  a  little  uny 
easiness — the  dread  of  meeting  Claudia. 

He  knew  that  she  was  not  expected  at  Tanglewood  until  the 
first  of  October;  for  so  the  judge  had  informed  him  in  a  letter 
that  he  had  received  the  very  night  before  he  left  Washington. 
And  this  was  only  the  first  of  September;  and  he  intended  to 
give  himself  but  two  weeks'  holiday  and  to  be  back  at  his  office 
by  the  fourteenth  at  farthest,  full  sixteen  days  before  the  ex 
pected  arrival  of  Lord  and  Lady  Vincent  at  Tanglewood. 

Yet  this  dread  of  meeting  Claudia  haunted  him.  His  love 
was  dead ;  but  as  he  had  told  Bee,  it  had  died  hard  and  rent  his 
heart  in  its  death-struggles,  and  that  heart  was  sore  to  the  touch 
of  her  presence. 

The  judge's  letter  wherein  he  had  spoken  of  the  date  of  his 
daughter  and  son-in-law's  visit  had  been  written  several  days 
previous  to  this  evening,  and  since  that,  news  might  have  come 
from  them,  speaking  of  some  change  of  plan,  involving  an  ear 
lier  visit. 

These  Ishmael  felt  were  the  mere  chimeras  of  imagination. 
Still  he  thought  he  would  inquire  concerning  the  family  at 
Tanglewood. 

"  They  are  all  well  up  at  the  house,  I  hope,  Uncle  Reuben  ? " 
he  asked. 

"Famous!  And  having  everything  shined  up  bright  as  a 
new  shilling,  in  honor  of  the  arrival  of  my  lord  and  my  lady, 
who  are  expected,  come  first  o'  next  mont'." 

"  On  the  first  of  October  ?     Are  you  sure  ? " 

"  On  the  first  of  October,  sharp !  Not  a  day  earlier  or  later ! 
I  was  up  to  the  house  yes'day  afternoon,  just  afore  you  come; 
and  sure  enough  the  judge,  he  had  just  got  a  letter  from  the 
young  madam, — my  lady,  I  mean, — in  which  she  promised  not 
to  disappoint  him,  but  to  be  at  Tanglewood  punctually  on  the 
first  of  October  to  a  day ! " 

Reuben,  a  hard-working  man,  who  was  "  early  to  bed  and 
early  to  rise,"  concluded  this  speech  with  such  an  awful,  un 
compromising  yawn  that  Ishmael  immediately  took  up  and 
lighted  his  bedroom  candle,  bid  them  all  good-night,  and  re 
tired. 


46  SELF-RAISED;  OK,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

He  was  once  more  in  the  humble  little  attic  room  where  he 
had  first  chanced  upon  a  set  of  old  law  books  and  imbibed  a  taste 
for  the  legal  profession. 

There  was  the  old  "screwtaw,"  as  Reuben  called  it,  and 
there  was  the  old  well-thumbed  volumes  that  had  cbnstytuted 
his  sole  wealth  of  books  before  he  had  the  range  of  the  well- 
filled  library  at  Tanglewood. 

And  there  was  the  plain  deal  table  standing  within  the  dor 
mer  window,  where  he  had  been  accustomed  to  sit  and  read 
and  write;  or,  whenever  he  raised  his  head,  to  gaze  out  upon  the 
ocean-like  expanse  of  water  near  the  mouth  of  the  Potomac. 

After  all,  this  humble  attic  chamber  had  many  points  of  re 
semblance  with  that  more  pretentious  one  he  had  occupied  in 
Judge  Merlin's  elegant  mansion  in  Washington.  Both  were  on 
the  north  side  of  the  Potomac.  Each  had  a  large  dormer  window 
looking  southwest  and  commanding  an  extensive  view  of  the 
river;  within  the  recess  of  each  window  he  had  been  accus 
tomed  to  sit  and  read  or  write. 

The  only  difference  was  that  the  window  in  the  Washington 
attic  looked  down  upon  the  great  city  and  the  winding  of  the 
river  among  wooded  and  rolling  hills;  while  the  window  of  the 
cottage  here  looked  down  upon  broad  fields  sloping  to  the  shore, 
and  upon  the  vast  sea-like  expanse  of  water  stretching  out  of 
sight  under  the  distant  horizon. 

The  comparison  between  his  two  study-windows  was  in  Ish- 
mael's  mind  as  he  stood  gazing  upon  the  shadowy  green  fields 
and  the  starlit  sky  and  water. 

Not  long  he  stood  there;  he  was  weary  with  his  journey;  so 
he  offered  up  his  evening  prayers  and  went  to  bed  and  to 
sleep. 

Early  in  the  morning  he  awoke,  and  arose  to  enjoy  the  beauty 
of  a  summer  Sunday  in  the  quiet  country.  It  was  a  deliciously 
cool,  bright,  beautiful  autumnal  morning. 

Ishmael  looked  out  over  land  and  water  for  a  little  while,  and 
then  quickly  dressed  himself,  offered  up  his  morning  prayers 
and  went  below. 

The  family  were  already  assembled  in  the  parlor,  and  all 
greeted  him  cordially. 

The  table  was  set,  and  Sally,  neat  in  her  Sunday  clothes  and 
splendid  in  her  coral  brooch,  was  waiting  ready  to  bring  in  the 
breakfast. 

And  a  fine  breakfast  it  was,  of  fragrant  coffee,  rich  cream. 


AT  TANGLEWOOD.  47 

fresh  butter,  Indian  corn  bread,  Maryland  biscuits,  broiled 
birds,  boiled  crabs,  etc. 

And  Ishmael,  upon  whom  the  salt  sea  air  of  the  coast  was 
already  producing  a  healthful  change,  did  ample  justice  to  the 
luxuries  spread  before  him. 

"  For  church  this  morning,  Ishmael  ?  "  inquired  Reuben. 

"  Yes ;  but  I  must  walk,  over  to  Tanglewood  and  go  with  the 
judge.  He  would  scarcely  ever  forgive  me  if  I  were  to  go  any 
where,  even  to  church,  before  visiting  him." 

"  No  more  he  wouldn't,  that's  a  fact,"  admitted  Reuben. 


CHAPTER  VH. 

AT  TANGLEWOOD. 

Are  not  the  forests,  waves  and  skies,  a  part 
Of  me  and  of  my  soul  as  I  of  them? 

IB  not  the  love  of  these  deep  in  my  heart 
With  a  pure  passion?    Should  I  not  contemn 
All  objects  if  compared  with  these  ?  and  stem 
'  A  tide  of  sufferings,  rather  than  forego 
Such  feelings  for  the  hard  and  worldly  phlegm 

Of  those  whose  eyes  are  only  turned  below, 

Gazing  upon  the  ground,  with  thoughts  that  dare  not  glow? 

— Byron. 

After  breakfast  Ishmael  took  his  hat,  and,  promising  to  re 
turn  in  the  evening,  set  out  for  Tanglewood  to  spend  the  day 
and  go  to  church  with  the  judge. 

How  he  enjoyed  that  Sunday  morning  walk  through  the 
depths  of  the  forest  that  lay  between  Woodside  and  Tan 
glewood. 

He  reached  the  house  just  as  the  judge  had  finished  break 
fast.  He  was  shown  into  the  room  while  the  old  man  still 
lingered  in  sheer  listlessness  over  his  empty  cup  and  plate. 

"  Eh,  Ishmael !  is  that  you,  my  boy  ?  Lord  bless  my  soul,  how 
glad  I  am  to  see  you !  Old  Jacob  was  never  so  glad  to  see 
Joseph  as  I  am  to  see  you ! "  was  the  greeting  of  the  judge,  as 
he  started  up,  overturning  his  chair  and  seizing  both  his  visi 
tor's  hands  and  shaking  them  vigorously. 

"  And  I  am  very  glad  indeed  to  see  you  again,  sir !  I  hope 
you  have  been  well  ? "  said  Ishmael  warmly,  returning  his 
greeting. 


48  SELF-KAISED  ;    OK,    FROM   THE   DEPTHS. 

"Well?  Hum,  ha,  how  can  I  be  well?  What  is  that  the 
poet  says? 

"  '  What  stamps  the  wrinkle  deepest  on  the  brow, 
It  is  to  be  alone  as  I  am  now! ' 

I  miss  Claudia,  Ishmael.    I  miss  her  sadly." 

"  Lady  Vincent  will  be  with  you  soon,  sir,"  observed  Ishmael, 
in  as  steady  a  voice  as  he  could  command. 

"  Yes,  she  will  come  on  the  first  of  October  and  stop  with  me 
for  a  month.  So  her  letter  of  Wednesday  received  yesterday 
says.  And  then  I  shall  lose  her  forever ! "  complained  the 
judge,  with  a  deep  sigh. 

"  Ah,  but  you  must  look  on  the  bright  side,  sir !  You  are  in 
dependent.  You  have  time  and  money  at  your  own  disposal; 
and  no  very  strong  ties  here.  You  can  visit  Lady  Vincent  as 
often  and  stay  with  her  as  long  as  you  please,"  smiled  Ishmael 
cheerfully. 

"  Why,  so  I  can !  I  never  thought  of  that  before !  I  may 
certainly  pass  at  least  half  my  time  with  my  daughter  if  1 
please ! "  exclaimed  the  old  man,  brightening  up. 

"Are  you  going  to  church  this  morning,  sir?"  inquired 
Ishmael. 

"You  are,  of  course!"  said  the  judge;  "for  you  take  care 
never  to  miss  morning  service !  So  I  must  go !  " 

"  Not  on  my  account.    I  know  the  road,"  smiled  Ishmael. 

"  Oh,  in  any  case  I  should  go.  I  promised  to  go  and  dhie  afc 
the  parsonage,  so  as  to  attend  afternoon  service  also.  And 
when  I  mentioned  to  Mr.  Wynne  that  I  was  expecting  you 
down  he  requested  me,  if  you  arrived  in  time,  to  bring  you  with 
me,  as  he  was  desirous  of  forming  your  acquaintance.  So  you 
see,  Ishmael,  your  fame  is  spreading." 

"I  am  very  grateful  to  you  and  to  Mr.  Wynne,"  said  Ish 
mael,  as  his  heart  suddenly  thrilled  to  the  memory  thfit 
Wynne  was  the  name  of  the  minister  who  had  united  his 
parents  in  their  secret  marriage. 

"Has  Mr.  Wynne  been  long  in  this  parish?"  he  inquired. 

"  Some  three  or  four  months,  I  believe.  This  is  his  native 
State,  however.  He  used  to  be  stationed  at  the  Baymouth 
church,  but  left  it  some  years  ago  to  go  as  a  missionary  to 
Farther  India;  but  as  of  late  his  health  failed,  he  returned 
home  and  accept-ed  the  call  to  take  charge  of  this  parish." 

Ishmael  looked  wistfully  in  the  face  of  the  judge  and  said: 


AT   TANGLEWOOD.  49 

"It  was  very  kind  in  Mr.  Wynne  to  think  of  inviting  me. 
Why  do  you  suppose  he  did  it  ? " 

"  Why,  I  really  do  suppose  that  the  report  of  your  splendid 
successes  in  Washington  has  reached  him,  and  he  feels  some 
curiosity  to  see  a  young  man  who  in  so  short  a  time  has  attained 
so  high  a  position." 

"  No,  it  is  not  that,"  said  Ishmael,  with  a  genuine  blush  at 
this  great  praise ;  "  but  do  you  really  not  know  what  it  is  ? " 

"  I  do  not,  unless  it  is  what  I  said,"  replied  the  judge,  rais 
ing  his  eyebrows. 

"  He  married  my  parents,  and  baptized  me ;  he  knows  that 
I  bear  my  mother's  maiden  name ;  and  he  was  familiar  with  my 
early  poverty  and  struggles  for  life;  he  left  the  neighborhood 
when  I  was  about  eight  years  old,"  said  Ishmael,  in  a  low  voice. 

The  judge  opened  his  eyes  and  drooped  his  head  for  a  few 
moments,  and  then  said: 

"  Indeed !  Your  father,  when  he  told  me  of  his  marriago 
with  your  mother,  did  not  mention  the  minister's  name.  Every 
thing  else,  I  believe,  he  candidly  revealed  to  me,  under  the 
seal  of  confidence;  this  omission  was  accidental,  and  really 
unimportant.  But  how  surprised  Brudenell  will  be  to  learn 
that  his  old  friend  and  confidant  is  stationed  here." 

"  Yes." 

"And  now  I  can  thoroughly  understand  the  great  interest 
Mr.  Wynne  feels  in  you.  It  is  not  every  minister  who  is  the 
confidant  in  such  a  domestic  tragedy  as  that  of  your  poor 
mother  was,  Ishmael.  It  is  not  only  the  circumstances  of 
your  birth  that  interest  him  in  you  so  much,  but  those  taken 
in  connection  with  your  recent  successes.  I  should  advise  you 
to  meet  Mr.  Wynne's  advances." 

"  I  shall  gratefully  do  so,  sir." 

•  "  And  now  I  really  do  suppose  it  is  time  to  order  the  carriage, 
if  we  mean  to  go  to  church  to-day,"  said  the  judge,  rising  and 
touching  the  bell. 

Jim  answered  it. 

"  Have  the  gray  horses  put  to  the  barouche  and  brought 
around.  And  put  a  case  of  that  old  port  wine  in  the  box;  I 
intend  to  take  it  as  a  present  to  the  parson.  I  always  con 
sidered  port  a  parsonic  wine,  and  it  really  is  in  this  case  just 
the  thing  for  an  invalid,"  said  the  judge,  turning  to  Ishmael  as 
Jim  left  the  room. 

In  twenty  minutes  the  carriage  was  ready,  and  they  started 


50  SELF-RAISED  J    OR,    FROM   THE   DEPTHS. 

for  the  church,  which  was  some  five  miles  distant.    An  hour's 
drive  brought  them  to  it. 

A  picturesque  scene  that  old  St.  Mary's  church  presented.  It 
was  situated  in  a  clearing  of  the  forest  beside  the  turnpike 
road.  It  was  built  of  red  brick,  and  boasted  twelve  gothic  win 
dows  and  a  tall  steeple.  The  church-yard  was  fenced  in  with 
a  low  brick  wall,  and  had  some  interesting  old  tombstones, 
whose  dates  were  coeval  with  the  first  settlement  of  the  State. 

Many  carriages  of  every  description,  from  the  barouche  of 
the  gentleman  to  the  cart  of  the  laborer,  were  scattered  about, 
drawn  up  under  the  shade  of  the  trees.  And  saddle-horses  and 
donkeys  were  tied  here  and  there.  And  groups  of  negroes,  in 
their  gay  Sunday  attire,  stood  gossiping  among  the  trees. 
Some  young  men,  as  usual,  were  loitering  at  the  church  door. 

The  judge's  carriage  drew  up  under  the  shade  of  a  forest 
tree,  and  the  judge  and  Ishmael  then  alighted,  and  leaving  the 
horses  in  the  care  of  the  coachman  went  into  the  church. 

The  congregation  were  already  assembled,  and  soon  after 
Judge  Merlin  and  his  guest  took  their  seats  the  minister  en 
tered  and  took  his  place  at  the  reading-desk  and  the  services 
commenced. 

There  was  little  in  this  Sunday  morning's  service  to  dis 
tinguish  it  from  others  of  the  same  sort.  The  minister  was  a 
good  man  and  a  plodding  country  parson.  lie  read  the  morn 
ing  prayers  in  a  creditable  but  by  no  means  distinguished 
manner.  And  he  preached  a  sermon,  more  remarkable  for  its 
practical  bearing  than  for  its  eloquence  or  originality,  his 
text  being  in  these  words :  "  Faith  without  works  is  dead." 

At  the  conclusion  of  the  services,  while  the  congregation  were 
leaving  the  church,  the  minister  descended  from  his  pulpit  and 
advanced  towards  Judge  Merlin,  who  was  also  hastening  to  meet 
his  pastor. 

There  was  a  shaking  of  hands. 

Judge  Merlin,  who  was  an  eminently  practical  man  in  all 
matters  but  one,  complimented  the  preacher  on  his  practical 
sermon. 

And  then  without  waiting  to  hear  Mr.  Wynne's  disclaimer, 
he  beckoned  Ishmael  to  step  forward,  and  the  usual  formula 
of  introduction  was  performed. 

"  Mr.  Wynne,  permit  me — Mr.  Worth,  Mr.  Wynne !  " 

And  then  were  two  simultaneous  bows  and  more  hand" 
shaking. 


AT  TANGLEWOOD.  51 

But  both  the  judge  and  Ishmael  noticed  the  wistful  look 
\fiih  which  the  latter  was  regarded  by  the  minister. 

"  He  is  comparing  likenesses,"  thought  the  judge. 

"He  is  thinking  of  the  past  and  present,"  thought  Ishmael 

And  both  were  right. 

Mr.  Wynne  saw  in  Ishmael  the  likeness  to  both  his  parents> 
and  noted  how  happily  nature  had  distinguished  him  with  the 
best  points  of  each.  And  he  was  wondering  at  the  miracle  of 
seeing  that  the  all-forsaken  child,  born  to  poverty,  shame,  and 
obscurity,  was  by  the  Lord's  blessing  on  his  own  persevering 
efforts  certainly  rising  to  wealth,  honor,  and  fame. 

Mr.  Wynne  renewed  his  pressing  invitation  to  Judge  Merlin 
and  Mr.  Worth  to  accompany  him  home  to  dinner. 

And  as  they  accepted  the  minister's  hospitality  the  whole 
party  moved  off  towards  the  parsonage,  which  was  situated 
in  another  clearing  of  the  forest  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
behind  the  church. 

The  parson  was  blessed  with  the  parson's  luck  of  a  large 
family,  consisting  of  a  wife,  several  sisters  and  sisters-in-law, 
and  nieces,  and  so  many  sons  and  daughters  of  all  ages,  from 
one  month  old  to  twenty  years,  that  the  judge,  after  counting 
thirteen  before  he  came  to  the  end  of  the  list,  gave  up  the  job 
in  despair. 

Notwithstanding,  or  perhaps  because  of,  this,  for  "  the  more, 
the  merrier,"  you  know,  the  family  dinner  passed  off  pleasantly. 
And  after  dinner  they  all  returned  to  church  to  attend  the 
afternoon  service. 

And  when  that  was  ended  Judge  Merlin  and  Ishmael  took 
leave  of  the  parson  and  his  family  and  returned  home. 

When  they  reached  Tanglewood  and  alighted,  the  judge,  who 
was  first  out,  was  accosted  by  his  servant  Jim,  who  spoke  a  few 
words  in  a  low  tone,  which  had  the  effect  of  hurrying  the  judge 
into  the  house. 

Ishmael  followed  at  his  leisure. 

He  entered  the  drawing  room  and  was  walking  slowly  and 
thoughtfully  up  and  down  the  room,  when  the  sound  of  voices 
in  the  adjoining  library  caught  his  ear  and  transfixed  him  tc 
the  spot. 

"  Yes,  papa,  I  am  here,  and  alone — strange  as  this  maj 
seem ! " 

It  was  the  voice  of  Claudia  that  spoke  these  words. 


62  SELF-EAISED  J   OR,    FROM   THE   DEPTHS. 

CHAPTER  VHL 

WHY  CLAUDIA  WAS  ALONE. 

Be  not  amazed  at  life.    'Tis  still 

The  mode  ui  God  with  his  elect: 
Their  hopes  exactly  to  fulfill, 

In  times  and  ways  they  least  expect. 

\ 
Who  marry  as  they  choose,  and  choose, 

Not  as  they  ought,  they  mock  the  priest, 
And  leaving  out  obedience,  lose 

The  fiuest  flavor  ol'  the  feast. 

— Coventry  Patmore. 

Ishmael  stood  transfixed  to  the  spot — for  a  moment,  and  then, 
breaking  the  spell  with  which  the  sound  of  Claudia's  voice 
had  bound  him,  he  passed  into  the  hall,  took  his  hat  from  the 
rack,  and  said  to  Jim,  who  was  still  in  attendance  there : 

"  Give  my  respects  to  your  master,  and  say  that  I  have  an 
engagement  this  evening  that  obliges  me  to  withdraw.  And  give 
him  my  adieus." 

"  But,  Mr.  Ishmael,  sir,  you  will  wait  for  tea.  Lady  Vincent 

is  here,  sir,  just  arrived "  began  Jim,  with  the  affectionate 

freedom  of  a  petted  servant. 

But  Ishmael  had  left  the  hall,  to  keep  his  promise  of  spend 
ing  the  evening  with  Reuben  and  Hannah. 

Claudia,  standing  by  her  father's  side  in  the  library,  had 
also  heard  the  sound  of  Ishmael's  voice,  as  he  spoke  to  the  serv 
ant  in  the  hall;  and  she  suddenly  ceased  talking  and  looked 
as  if  turned  to  stone. 

"Why,  what  is  the  matter,  my  dear?"  inquired  the  judge, 
surprised  at  the  panic  into  which  she  had  been  cast. 

"  Papa,  he  here !  "  she  said. 

"Who?" 

"Ishmael!" 

"Yes.    Why?" 

"Papa,  make  some  excuse  and  get  rid  of  him.  I  must  not, 
cannot,  will  not,  meet  him  now ! "  she  exclaimed,  in  a  half 
breathless  voice  of  ill-suppressed  excitement. 

The  judge  looked  at  his  daughter  wistfully,  painfully,  for 
a  moment,  and  then,  as  something  like  the  truth  in  regard  to 
Claudia's  feelings  broke  upon  him,  he  replied  very  gravely: 

"My  dear,  you  need  not  meet  him;  and  he  has  saved  m«; 


WHY    CLAUDIA    WAS    ALONE.  53 

the  embarrassment  of  sending  him  away.  He  has  gone,  if  I 
mistake  not." 

"  If  you  '  mistake '  not.  There  must  be  no  question  of  this, 
sir !  See !  and  if  he  has  not  gone,  tell  him  to  go  directly !  " 

"Claudia!" 

"  Oh,  papa,  I  am  nearly  crazy !    Go !  " 

The  judge  stepped  out  into  the  hall  and  made  the  necessary 
inquiries. 

And  Jim  gave  Ishmael's  message. 

With  this  the  judge  returned  to  Claudia. 

"  He  is  gone.  And  now,  my  dear,  I  wish  to  know  why  it  is 
that  you  are  here  alone?  I  never  in  my  life  heard  of  such  a 
thing.  Where  is  Vincent  ?  " 

"  Papa,  I  am  nearly  fainting  with  fatigue.  Will  you  ring 
for  one  of  the  women  to  show  Ruth  my  room?  I  suppose  I 
have  my  old  one  ? "  she  said,  throwing  herself  back  in  her 
chair. 

"  Why — no,  my  dear ;  I  fancy  I  saw  Katie  and  the  maids 
decorating  the  suite  of  rooms  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  hall 
on  this  floor  for  you.  I'll  see." 

"Anywhere,  anywhere — 'out  of  the  world,'"  sighed  Claudia, 
as  the  judge  sharply  rang  the  bell. 

Jim  answered  it. 

"  Tell  Katie  to  show  Lady  Vincent's  maid  to  her  ladyship's 
chamber,  and  do  you  see  the  luggage  taken  there." 

Jim  bowed  and  turned  to  go. 

"  Stop,"  said  the  judge.  "  Claudia,  my  dear,  what  refresh 
ment  will  you  take  before  going  up?  A  glass  of  wine?  a  cup 
of  tea  ? "  he  inquired,  looking  anxiously  upon  the  harassed 
countenance  and  languid  figure  of  his  daughter. 

"  A  cup  of  coffee,  papa,  if  they  have  any  ready ;  if  not,  any 
thing  they  can  bring  quickest." 

"A  cup  of  coffee  for  Lady  Vincent  in  one  minute,  ready  or 
not  ready ! "  was  the  somewhat  unreasonable  command  of  the 
judge. 

Jim  disappeared  to  deliver  all  his  master's  orders. 

And  it  seemed  that  the  coffee  was  ready,  for  he  almost  im 
mediately  reappeared  bearing  a  tray  with  the  service  arranged 
upon  it. 

"  Is  it  strong,  Jim  ? "  inquired  Claudia,  as  she  raised  the  cup 
to  her  lips. 

"  Yes,  miss — ma'am — my  ladyship,  I  mean  1 "  said  poor  Jim, 


54  SELF-RAISED  ;    OB,    FEOM   THE   DEPTHS. 

who  was  excessively  bothered  by  Claudia's  new  title  and  the 
changes  that  were  rung  upon  it. 

The  coffee  must  have  been  strong,  to  judge  by  its  effects 
upon  Claudia. 

"  Take  it  away,"  she  said,  after  having  drunk  two  cupfuls. 
"Papa,  I  feel  better;  and  while  Ruth  is  unpacking  my  clothes 
I  may  just  as  well  sit  here  and  tell  you  why,  if  indeed  I  really 
know  why,  I  am  here  alone.  We  were  at  Niagara,  where  we  had 
intended  to  remain  throughout  this  month  of  September.  All 
the  world  seemed  to  know  where  we  were  and  how  long  .we  in 
tended  to  stay;  for  you  are  aware  how  absurdly  we  democratic 
and  republican  Americans  worship  rank  and  title;  and  how  cer 
tain  our  reporters  would  be  to  chronicle  the  movements  of  Lord 
and  Lady  Vincent,"  said  Claudia,  with  that  air  of  world-scorn 
and  self-scorn  in  which  she  often  indulged. 

"Well,  Lady  Vincent  cannot  consistently  find  fault  with 
that,"  said  the  judge,  with  a  covert  smile. 

"  Because  Lady  Vincent  shares  the  folly  or  has  shared  it," 
said  Claudia;  "but  Lord  Vincent  did  find  fault  with  it;  great 
fault — much  greater  fault  than  was  necessary,  I  thought,  and 
grumbled  incessantly  at  our  custom  of  registering  names  at  the 
hotels,  and  at  '  American  snobbery  and  impertinence '  gen 
erally." 

"  Bless  his  impudence !    Who  sent  for  him  ?  " 

"  Papa,  we  should  have  quarreled  upon  this  subject  in  our 
honeymoon,  if  I  had  had  respect  enough  for  him  to  hold  any 
controversy  with  him." 

"Claudia!" 

"  Well,  I  cannot  help  it,  papa !  I  must  speak  out  somewhere 
and  to  someone!  Where  so  well  as  here  in  the  woods;  and  to 
whom  so  well  as  to  you  ? " 

"  You  have  not  yet  told  me  why  you  are  here  alone.  And 
I  assure  you,  Claudia,  that  the  fact  gives  me  uneasiness;  it 
is  unusual — unprecedented !  " 

"I  am  telling  you,  papa.  One  morning  while  we  were  still 
at  Niagara  I  was  sitting  alone  in  our  private  parlor,  when  our 
mail  was  brought  in — your  letter  for  me,  and  three  letters  for 
'my  lord.'  Of  the  latter,  the  first  bore  the  postmark  of  Banff, 
the  second  that  of  Liverpool,  and  the  third  that  of  New  York. 
They  were  all  superscribed  by  the  same  hand ;  all  were  evidently 
from  the  same  person.  After  turning  them  over  and  over  in 
my  hand,  and  in  my  mind,  I  came  to  the  conclusion  that  the 


WHY    CLAUDIA    WAS    ALONE.  55 

first  dated  was  written  to  announce  the  writer  as  starting  upon 
a  journey;  the  second  to  announce  the  embarkment  at  Liver 
pool;  and  the  third  the  arrival  at  New  York;  and  that  these 
letters,  though  posted  at  different  times  and  places,  had  by  the 
irregularities  of  the  ocean  mails  happened  to  arrive  at  their 
final  destination  the  same  day.  Lord  Vincent  has  a  mother 
and  several  sisters;  yet  I  felt  very  sure  that  the  letters  never 
•came  from  either  of  them,  because  in  fact  I  had  seen  the  hand 
writing  of  each  in  their  letters  to  him.  While  I  was  still  won 
dering  over  these  rather  mysterious  letters  my  lord  lounged  into 
the  room. 

"I  handed  him  the  letters,  the  Banff  one  being  on  the  top. 
As  soon  as  he  saw  the  handwriting  he  gave  vent  to  various  ex 
clamations  of  annoyance,  such  as  I  had  never  heard  from  a  gen 
tleman,  and  scarcely  ever  expected  to  hear  from  a  lord.  '  Bosh ! ' 
*  Bother ! '  '  Here's  a  go ! '  '  Set  fire  to  her,'  etc.,  being  among 
the  most  harmless  and  refined.  But  presently  he  saw  the  post 
marks  of  Liverpool  and  New  York  on  the  other  letters,  and, 
after  tearing  them  open  and  devouring  their  contents,  he  gave 
way  to  a  fury  of  passion  that  positively  appalled  me.  Papa,  he 
swore  and  cursed  like  a  pirate  in  a  storm ! " 

"At  you?" 

"At  me?  I  think  not,"  answered  Claudia  haughtily;  "but 
at  some  person  or  persons  unknown.  However,  as  he  forgot  him 
self  so  far  as  to  give  vent  to  his  passion  in  my  presence,  I  got 
up  and  retired  to  my  chamber.  Presently  he  came  in,  grace 
fully  apologized  for  his  violence, — did  not  explain  the  cause 
of  it,  however, — but  requested  me  to  give  orders  for  the  packing 
of  our  trunks  and  be  ready  to  leave  for  New  York  in  one  hour." 

"  Did  he  give  you  no  reason  for  his  sudden  movement  ? " 

"  Not  until  I  inquired ;  then  he  gave  me  the  general,  con- 
Tenient,  unsatisfactory  reason  'business.'  In  an  hour  we  were 
off  to  New  York.  But  now,  papa,  comes  the  singular  part  of 
the  affair.  When  we  reached  the  city,  instead  of  driving  to  one 
of  the  best  hotels,  as  had  always  been  his  custom,  he  drove  to 
quite  an  inferior  place,  and  registered  our  names — '  Captain 
and  Mrs.  Jenkins.' " 

"What  on  earth  did  he  do  that  for?" 

"  How  can  I  tell  ?  When  I  made  the  same  inquiry  of  him  he 
merely  answered  that  he  was  tired  of  being  trumpeted  to  the 
world  by  these  '  impertinent  Yankee  reporters ! '  The  next  day 
•lie  left  me  alone  in  that  stupid  place  and  went  out  on  his  '  busi* 


66  SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

ness,'  whatever  that  was.  And  when  he  returned  in  the  even 
ing  he  told  me  that  the  '  business '  was  happily  concluded,  and 
that  we  might  as  well  go  on  to  Washington  and  Tanglewocd  to 
pay  our  promised  visit  to  you.  I  very  readily  acceded  to  that 
proposition,  for,  papa,  I  was  pining  to  see  you." 

"  My  dear  child ! "  said  the  judge,  with  emotion. 

"  So  next  morning  we  started  for  the  Philadelphia,  Balti 
more,  and  Washington  station.  We  were  in  good  time,  and  were 
just  comfortably  seated  in  one  of  the  best  cars  when  Lord  Vin 
cent  caught  sight  of  someone  on  the  platform.  And  papa,  with 
a  muttered  curse  he  started  up  and  hurried  from  the  car, 
throwing  behind  to  me  the  hasty  words,  '  I'll  be  back  soon.' 
Five,  ten,  fifteen  minutes  passed,  and  he  did  not  come.  And 
while  I  was  still  anxiously  looking  for  him  the  train  started. 
It  was  the  express,  and  came  all  the  way  through.  And  that  is 
why  myself  and  attendants  are  here  alone." 

"  All  this  seems  very  strange,  Claudia,"  said  the  judge,  with 
a  troubled  countenance. 

"Yes,  very." 

"What  do  you  make  of  it?  Of  course  you,  knowing  more 
of  the  circumstances,  are  better  able  to  judge  than  I  am." 

"  Papa,  I  do  not  know." 

"  Who  was  it  that  he  caught  sight  of  on  the  platform  ?  " 

"  A  tall,  handsome,  imperious-looking  woman  between  thirty 
and  forty  years  of  age,  I  should  say;  a  sort  of  Cleopatra;  very 
dark,  very  richly  dressed.  She  was  looking  at  him  intently  when 
he  caught  sight  of  her  and  rushed  out  as  I  said." 

"  And  you  can  make  nothing  of  it  ? " 

"  Nothing.  I  do  not  know  whether  he  missed  the  train  by 
design  or  accident;  or  whether  he  is  at  this  moment  on  board 
the  cars  steaming  to  Washington  or  on  board  one  of  the  ocean 
packets  steaming  to  Liverpool." 

"A  bad,  bad  business,  Claudia;  all  this  grieves  me  much. 
You  have  been  but  two  months  married,  and  you  return  to  me 
alone  and  your  husband  is  among  the  missing;  a  bad,  bad 
business,  Claudia,"  said  the  judge  very  gravely. 

"  Not  so  bad  as  your  words  would  seem  to  imply,  papa.  At 
least  I  hope  not.  I  am  inclined  to  think  the  detention  was  ac 
cidental;  and  that  Lord  Vincent  will  arrive  by  the  next  boat," 
Baid  Claudia. 

"But  how  coolly  and  dispassionately  you  speak  of  an  uncer 
tainty  that  would  drive  any  other  woman  almost  mad.  At  this 


WHY   CLAUDIA   WAS   ALONE.  57 

moment  you  do  not  know  whether  you  are  abandoned  or  not, 
and  to  be  candid  with  you,  you  do  not  seem  to  care,"  said  the 
judge  austerely. 

"  Papa,  what  I  paid  down  my  liberty  for, — this  rank,  I  mean — 
is  safe !  And  so  whether  he  goes  or  stays  I  am  Lady  Vincent ; 
and  nothing  but  death  can  prevent  my  becoming  Countess  of 
Hurstmonceux  and  a  peeress  of  England,"  said  Claudia  defi 
antly,  as  she  arose  and  drew  her  shawl  around  her  shoulders 
and  looked  about  herself. 

"  What  is  it  that  you  want,  my  dear  ? "  inquired  the  judge. 

"  Nothing.  I  was  taking  a  view  of  the  old  familiar  objects. 
How  much  has  happened  since  I  saw  them  last.  It  seems  to  me 
as  if  many  years  had  passed  since  that  time.  Well,  papa,  I 
suppose  Ruth  has  unpacked  and  put  away  my  clothes  by  this 
time,  and  so  I  will  leave  you  for  the  present." 

And  with  a  weary,  listless  air  Claudia  left  the  room  and 
turned  to  go  upstairs. 

"Not  there,  not  there,  my  dear,  I  told  you.  The  rooms  on 
this  floor  have  been  prepared  for  you,"  said  the  judge,  who  had 
followed  her  to  the  door. 

With  a  sigh  Claudia  turned  and  crossed  the  hall  and  entered 
the  "  parlor-chamber,"  as  the  large  bedroom  adjoining  the 
morning  room  was  called. 

Ruth  was  hanging  the  last  dresses  in  the  wardrobe,  and  Jim 
was  shouldering  the  last  empty  trunk  to  take  it  away. 

"  I  have  left  out  the  silver  gray  glace,  for  you  to  wear  this 
evening,  if  you  please,  my  lady,"  said  Ruth,  indicating  the  dress 
that  lay  upon  the  bed. 

"  That  will  do,  Ruth,"  answered  her  mistress,  whose  thoughts 
were  now  not  on  dresses,  but  on  that  time  when  Ishmael,  for 
her  sake,  lay  wounded,  bleeding,  and  almost  dying  on  that  very 
bed. 


98          SELF-RAISED;  OK,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS 


CHAPTER  IX. 

HOLIDAY. 

Ha!  like  a  kind  hand  on  my  brow 

Comes  this  fresh  breeze, 
Cooling  its  dull  and  feverish  glow, 
While  through  my  being  seems  to  flow 
The  breath  of  a  new  life — the  healing  of  the  seaa 

Good-by  to  pain  and  care!    I  take 

Mine  ease  to-day; 

Here  where  these  sunny  waters  break, 
And  ripples  this  keen  breeze,  I  shake 
All  burdens  from  the  heart,  all  weary  thoughts  away. 

With  every  nerve,  vein,  and  artery  throbbing  with  excitement 
Ishmael  hurried  away  from  the  house  that  contained  Claudia. 

The  solitary  walk  through  the  thick  woods  calmed  his  emo 
tion  before  he  reached  Woodside. 

He  found  a  tidy  room,  a  tempting  tea-table,  and  smiling 
faces  waiting  to  welcome  him. 

"  That's  my  boy  I "  exclaimed  Reuben,  coming  forward  and 
grasping  his  hand;  "I  telled  Hannah  to  keep  the  tea  back  a 
spell,  'cause  I  knowed  you  wouldn't  disappoint  us." 

"  As  if  I  ever  thought  you  would,  Ishmael !  Reuben  is  always 
prophesying  things  that  can't  fail  to  come  true,  like  tbe  rising 
of  the  sun  in  the  east  every  day,  and  so  forth.  And  he  expects 
to  get  credit  for  his  foresight,"  said  Hannah,  taking  her  scat 
before  the  steaming  tea-pot  and  calling  upon  the  others  to  sit 
down. 

"  Well,  that  was  rayther  a  surprise,  as  met  you  and  the  judge, 
when  you  corned  home  from  church,  wasn't  it  ? "  inquired  Reu 
ben,  as  he  began  to  cut  slices  from  the  cold  ham. 

"  You  knew  of  the  arrival,  then  ? "  questioned  Ishmael. 

"Why,  bless  you,  yes!  Why,  laws,  you  know  the  carriage 
passed  right  by  here,  and  stopped  to  water  the  horses  afore 
going  on  to  Tanglewood.  But  -look  here !  There  was  nobody 
in  it  but  Mrs.  Vincent — blame  my  head — I  mean  Mrs.  Lord 
Vincent — and  her  city  maid." 

"Lady  Vincent,  Reuben.  How  many  times  will  I  have  to 
tell  you  that?"  said  Hannah  impatiently. 

"  All  right,  Hannah,  my  dear ;  I'll  remember  next  time. 
Ishmael,  my  boy,  I  think  you  got  all  your  interjects  from  Han 
nah.  You  sartainly  didn't  get  'em  from  me.  Well,  as  I  waa 


HOLIDAY.  59 

a-saying  of,  there  was  no  one  inside  except  Mrs.  Lord — I  mean 
Mrs.  Lady  Vincent  and  her  city  waiting-maid.  And  on  the  out 
side,  a-sitting  alongside  o'  the  driver,  was  a  gentleman,  as  Jim 
as  happened  to  be  here  introduced  to  me  as  Mr.  Frisbie,  Lord 
Vincent's  vallysham,  whatever  that  may  be." 

"  Body-servant,  Reuben,"  said  his  monitress. 

"  Servant !  Well,  if  he  was  a  servant,  I  don't  know  nothink ! 
Why,  there  aint  a  gentleman  in  S'  Mary's  county  as  dresses  as 
fine  and  puts  on  as  many  airs ! " 

"  That  is  quite  likely,  Uncle  Reuben ;  but  for  all  that,  Frisbie 
is  Lord  Vincent's  servant,"  said  Ishmael. 

"  Well,  hows'ever  that  may  be,  there  he  was  alongside  o'  the 
driver.  But  what  staggers  of  me  is,  that  there  wa'n't  no  Lord 
Vincent  nowhere  to  be  seen !  He  was  'mong  the  miasin'.  And 
that  was  the  rummest  go  as  ever  was.  A  new  bride  a-comin' 
home  to  her  'pa  without  no  bridegroom.  And  so  I  jest  axed 
Mr.  Frisbie,  Esquire,  and  he  telled  me  how  his  lordship  missed 
the  trail.  What  trail!  And  what  business  had  he  to  be  offen 
the  trail,  when  his  wife  was  on  it  ?  That's  what  I  want  to  know. 
And,  anyways,  it's  the  rummest  go  as  ever  was.  Did  you  hear 
anythink  about  it,  Ishmael  ? " 

"  I  chanced  to  overhear  Lady  Vincent  say  to  her  father — 
that  she  was  alone.  That  was  all.  I  did  not  even  see  her  lady 
ship." 

"  Well,  now,  that's  another  rum  go.  Didn't  wait  to  see  her. 
And  you  sich  friends?  Owtch!  Oh!  Ah!  What's  that  for, 
Hannah?  You've  trod  on  my  toe  and  ground  it  a'most  to 
powder !  Ah !  " 

"  If  your  foot  is  as  soft  as  your  head,  no  wonder  every  touch 
hurts  it ! "  snapped  Mrs.  Gray. 

"  Law,  what  a  temper  she  have  got,  Ishmael ! "  said  poor 
Reuben,  carr^ssing  his  afflicted  foot. 

Hannah  had  effected  the  diversion  she  intended,  and  soon 
after  gave  the  signal  for  rising  from  the  table.  And  she  took 
good  care  during  the  rest  of  the  evening  that  the  subject  of 
Lord  and  Lady  Vincent  should  not  be  brought  upon  the  tapis. 

The  next  morning  being  Monday,  Ishmael  accompanied 
Reuben  in  his  rounds  over  his  own  little  farm  and  the  great 
Tanglewood  estate,  to  see  the  improvements.  The  "durrum" 
eow  and  calf  and  the  "shank-hye"  fowls  received  due  notice. 
And  the  first  ripe  bunches  of  the  "hamburg"  grapes  were 
plucked  in  the  visitor's  honor. 


(SO  SELF-RAISED  '    OR,    FROM   THE   DEPTHS. 

In  the  afternoon  they  went  down  to  the  oyster  banks  and 
amused  themselves  with  watching  Sam  rake  the  oysters  and 
load  the  cart. 

They  returned  to  a  late  tea. 

It  was  while  they  were  sitting  out  on  the  vine-shaded  porch, 
enjoying  their  usual  evening  chat  under  the  star-lit  sky,  that 
they  heard  the  sound  of  approaching  wheels. 

And  a  few  moments  afterwards  a  carriage  drew  up  at  the 
gate. 

Keuben  walked  up  to  see  who  was  within  it.  And  Ishmael 
heard  the  voice  of  Lord  Vincent  inquiring: 

"  Is  this  the  best  road  to  Tanglewood  ?  " 

"  Well,  yes,  sir ;  I  do  s'pose  it's  the  best,  if  any  can  be  called 
the  best  where  none  on  'em  is  good,  but  every  one  on  'em  as 
bad  as  bad  can  be  1 "  was  the  encouraging  answer. 

"  Drive  on !  "  said  Lord  Vincent.  And  the  carriage  rolled 
out  of  sight  into  the  forest  road. 

After  all,  then,  the  viscount  had  not  absconded.  He  proba 
bly  had  missed  the  train.  But  why  had  he  missed  it?  That 
was  still  the  question. 

On  Tuesday  morning  Ishmael  took  leave  of  Hannah  and 
Reuben,  promising  to  stop  and  spend  another  day  and  night 
with  them  on  his  return  to  Washington;  and  mounted  on  a 
fine  horse,  borrowed  from  Reuben,  with  his  knapsack  behind 
him,  he  started  for  the  Beacon. 

It  was  yet  early  in  the  forenoon  when  he  arrived  at  that  cool 
promontory  where  the  refreshing  sea  breezes  met  him. 

As  he  rode  up  to  the  house,  that  you  know  fronted  the  water, 
he  saw  Bee,  blooming  and  radiant  with  youth  and  beauty,  out 
on  the  front  lawn  with  her  younger  sisters  and  brothers. 

Their  restless  glances  caught  sight  of  him  first;  and  they  all 
exclaimed  at  once: 

"  Here's  Ishmael,  Bee !  here's  Ishmael,  Bee  I "  and  ran  off  to 
meet  him. 

Bee  impulsively  started  to  run  too,  but  checked  herself,  and 
stood,  blushing  but  eager,  waiting  until  Ishmael  dismounted 
and  came  to  greet  her. 

She  met  him  with  a  warm,  silent  welcome,  and  then,  looking 
at  him  suddenly,  said: 

"  You  are  so  much  better ;  you  are  quite  well.  I  am  so  glad, 
Ishmael!" 

"  Yes,  I  am  well  and  happy,  dearest  Bee — thanks  to  you  and 


HOLIDAY.  61 

to  Heaven !  "  said  Ishmael,  warmly  pressing  her  hands  again  to 
his  lips,  before  turning  to  embrace  the  children  who  were  jump 
ing  around  him. 

Then  they  all  went  into  the  house,  where  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Mid- 
dleton  met  him  with  an  equally  cordial  welcome. 

"  And  how  did  you  leave  the  family  at  Tanglewood  ?  Family, 
said  I  ?  Ah !  there  is  no  family  there  now ;  no  one  left  but  the 
old  judge.  How  is  he?  And  when  is  Claudia  and  her  lordling 
expected  back  ? "  inquired  Mr.  Middleton,  when  they  were  all 
seated  near  one  of  the  sea-view  windows. 

"  The  judge  is  well.  Lord  and  Lady  Vincent  are  with  him," 
replied  Ishmael. 

And  then  in  answer  to  their  exclamations  of  surprise  he  told 
all  he  knew  of  the  unexpected  arrival. 

A  luncheon  of  fruit,  cream,  cake,  and  wine  was  served,  and 
the  welcome  guest  was  pressed  to  partake  of  it. 

Ishmael  tasted  and  enjoyed  all  except  the  wine — that,  faith 
ful  to  his  vow,  he  avoided,  and  was  rewarded  by  a  sympathetic 
look  from  Bee. 

This  was  one  of  the  bright  days  of  Ishmael's  life.  Nowhere 
did  he  feel  so  much  at  home  or  so  happy  as  with  these  kind 
friends.  They  had  an  early  seaside  dinner — fish,  crabs,  oysters, 
and  water-fowl,  forming  a  large  portion  of  the  bill  of  fare. 
Luscious,  freshly  gathered  fruits  composed  the  dessert.  After 
dinner,  as  the  evening  was  clear  and  bright,  the  wind  fresh  and 
the  waters  calm,  they  went  for  a  sail  down  to  Silver  Sands,  and 
returned  by  starlight. 

Ishmael  remained  all  the  week  at  the  Beacon.  And  it  was  a 
week  of  rare  enjoyment  to  him.  He  passed  nearly  all  the  time 
with  Bee  and  her  inseparable  companions,  the  children.  He 
helped  them  with  the  lessons  in  the  schoolroom  in  the  morning ; 
he  went  nutting  with  them  in  the  woods,  or  strolled  with  them 
on  the  beach;  and  he  gave  himself  up  to  the  task  of  amusing 
them  during  the  hour  after  the  lamp  was  lighted  that  they 
were  permitted  to  sit  up. 

All  this  was  due  partly  to  his  desire  to  be  with  his  betrothed, 
and  partly  to  his  genial  love  to  children. 

About  the  middle  of  the  week,  as  they  were  all  seated  at 
breakfast  one  morning,  missives  came  from  Tanglewood  to  the 
Beacon — invitations  to  dine  there  the  following  Wednesday 
evening.  These  invitations  included  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Middleton, 
Beatrice,  and  Ishmael. 


62  SELF-RAISED  J    OR,    FROM    THE    DEPTHS. 

"  You  will  go,  of  course,  Worth  ? "  said  Mr.  Middleton. 

"  I  am  due  at  Brudenell  Hall  on  Tuesday  evening,  and  1 
must  keep  my  appointment,"  said  Ishmael. 

"  Well,  I  suppose  that  settles  it,  for  I  never  knew  you  to  break 
an  appointment,  under  any  sort  of  temptation,"  said  Mr.  Mid 
dleton. 

And  Bee,  who  well  understood  why,  even  had  Ishmael's  time 
been  at  his  own  disposal,  he  should  not  have  gone  to  Tangle- 
wood,  silently  acquiesced. 

On  this  day  Ishmael  sought  an  interview  with  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Middleton,  and  besought  them,  as  his  present  income  and  fu 
ture  prospects  equally  justified  him  in  taking  a  wife,  to  fix 
some  day,  not  very  distant,  for  his  marriage  with  Bee. 

But  the  father  and  mother  assured  him,  in  the  firmest  though 
the  most  affectionate  manner,  that  at  least  one  year,  if  not  two, 
must  elapse  before  they  could  consent  to  part  with  their 
daughter. 

Ishmael  most  earnestly  deprecated  the  two  years  of  proba 
tion,  and  finally  compromised  for  one  year,  during  which  he 
should  be  permitted  to  correspond  freely  with  his  betrothed,  and 
visit  her  at  will. 

With  this  Ishmael  rested  satisfied. 

The  remainder  of  the  week  passed  passed  delightfully  to  him. 

Mrs.  Middleton  took  the  children  off  Bee's  hands  for  a  few 
days,  to  leave  her  to  some  enjoyment  of  her  lover's  visit. 

And  every  morning  and  afternoon  Ishmael  and  Bee  rode 
or  walked  together,  through  the  old  forest  or  along  the  pebbly 
beach.  Sometimes  they  had  a  sail  to  some  fine  point  on  the 
shore.  Their  evenings  were  passed  in  the  drawing  room,  with 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Middleton,  and  were  employed  in  music,  books, 
and  conversation. 

And  so  the  pleasant  days  slipped  by  and  brought  the  Sabbath, 
v.-hen  all  the  family  went  together  to  the  old  Shelton  church. 

Monday  was  the  .ast  day  of  his  visit,  and  he  passed  it  almost 
exclusively  in  the  society  of  Bee.  In  the  evening  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Middleton  left  them  alone  in  the  drawing  room,  that  they 
might  say  their  last  kind  words  to  each  other  unembarrassed 
by  the  presence  of  others. 

And  on  Tuesday  morning  Ishmael  mounted  his  horse  and 
started  for  BrudenelL 


ISHMAEL   AT   BRUDENELL.  63 

CHAPTER  X. 

ISHMAEL  AT  BRUDENELL. 

God  loves  110  heart  to  others  icedf 

Nor  erring  flatteries  which  bedim 
Our  glorious  membership  iu  Christ, 

Wherein  all  loving  His,  love  Him. 

— M .  F.  Tupper. 

It  was  a  long  day's  ride  from  the  Beacon  to  Brudenell  Hall. 
The  greater  length  of  the  road  lay  through  the  forest. 
It  was,  in  fact,  the  very  same  route  traversed,  five  years  before, 
by  Reuben  Gray,  when  he  brought  Hannah  and  Ishmael  from 
the  Hill  Hut  to  Woodside. 

Ishmael  thought  of  that  time,  as  he  ambled  on  through  the 
leafy  wilderness. 

At  noon  he  stopped  at  a  rural  inn  to  feed  and  rest  his  horse, 
and  refresh  himself,  and  an  hour  afterwards  he  mounted  and 
resumed  his  journey. 

It  was  near  sunset  when  he  came  in  sight  of  the  bay  and  the 
village  to  which  it  gave  the  name  of  Baymouth.  How  well  he 
remembered  the  last  time  he  had  been  at  that  village — when 
he  had  run  that  frantic  race  to  catch  the  sleigh  which  was  car 
rying  Claudia  away  from  him,  and  had  fallen  in  a  swoon  at  the 
sight  of  the  steamer  that  was  bearing  her  off. 

How  many  changes  had  taken  place  since  then!  Claudia 
was  a  viscountess;  he  was  a  successful  barrister;  their  love  a 
troubled  dream  of  the  past. 

He  rode  through  Baymouth,  looking  left  and  right  at  the 
old  familiar  shops  and  signs  that  had  been  the  wonder  and 
amusement  of  his  childhood ;  and  at  many  new  shops  and  signs 
that  the  march  of  progress  had  brought  down  even  to  Bay- 
mouth. 

He  paused  a  moment  to  gaze  at  Hamlin's  book  store,  that 
had  been  the  paradise  of  his  boyhood ;  and  he  recalled  that  note 
worthy  day  in  August,  when,  while  standing  before  Hamlin's 
window,  staring  at  the  books,  he  had  first  been  accosted  by 
Mr.  Middleton,  afterwards  assaulted  by  Alfred  Burghe,  and 
finally  defended  by  Claudia  Merlin.  Claudia  was  noble  then — 
but,  ah,  how  ignoble  now! 

He  passed    on,   unrecognized    by   anyone,   first   because  the 


64  SELF-RAISED  J   OR,    FROM    HIE   DEPTHS. 

years  between  the  ages  of  seventeen,  when  he  was  last  there* 
and  twenty-one,  when  he  was  now  there,  really  had  wrought 
serious  changes  in  his  personal  appearance,  and  secondly  be 
cause  no  one  was  just  then  expecting  to  see  Ishmael  Worth  at 
all,  and  least  of  all  in  the  person  of  the  tall,  distinguished-look' 
ing,  and  well-mounted  stranger,  who  came  riding  through  theii 
town  and  taking  the  road  to  Brudenell. 

Every  foot  of  that  road  was  rich  in  memories  to  Ishmael. 
Over  it  he  had  ridden,  in  Mr.  Middleton's  carriage,  on  that 
fateful  day  of  his  first  meeting  with  Claudia. 

Over  it  he  had  traveled,  weary  and  footsore,  through  the 
snow,  to  sell  his  precious  book  to  buy  tea  for  Hannah.. 

And  over  it  he  had  again  flashed  in  Mr.  Middleton's  sleigh, 
happy  in  the  possession  of  his  recovered  treasure. 

Twilight  was  deepening  into  dark  when  he  reached  that  point 
in  the  road  where  the  little  footpath  diverged  from  it  and  led 
up  to  the  Hill  Hut. 

No!  he  could  not  pass  this  by.  The  path  was  wide  enough 
to  admit  the  passage  of  a  horse.  He  turned  up  it,  and  rode  on 
until  he  came  in  sight  of  the  hut. 

It  was  but  little  changed.  It  is  astonishing  how  long  these 
little  lonely  dilapidated  houses  hold  on  if  let  alone. 

He  alighted,  tied  his  horse  to  a  tree,  and  walked  up  behind 
the  house,  where,  under  the  old  elm,  he  saw  the  low  headstone 
gleaming  dimly  in  the  starlight. 

He  knelt  and  bowed  his  head  over  it  for  a  little  while.  Then 
he  arose  and  stood  with  folded  arms,  gazing  thoughtfully  down 
upon  it.  Finally  he  murmured  to  himself:  "Not  here,  but 
risen ; "  and  turned  and  left  the  spot. 

He  went  to  the  tree  where  he  had  tied  his  horse,  remounted, 
and  rode  on  his  way. 

Again  he  passed  down  the  narrow  path  leading  back  to  the 
broad  turnpike  road  that  wound  around  the  brow  of  the  hills  to 
Brudenell  Hall. 

Here  also  every  yard  of  the  road  was  redolent  of  past  asso 
ciations. 

How  often,  while  self-apprenticed  to  the  Professor  of  Odd 
Jobs,  he  had  passed  up  and  down  this  road,  carrying  a  basket 
of  tools  behind  his  master. 

At  length  he  came  to  the  cross-roads,  and  to  the  turnstile, 
where  he  had  once  seen  and  been  accosted  by  the  beautiful 
Countess  of  Hurstmonceux. 


ISHMAEL   AT   BKUDETfELL.  65 

He  rode  past  this  spot,  and  taking  the  lower  arm  of  the  road 
entered  upon  the  Brudenell  grounds. 

A  very  short  ride  brought  him  to  the  semi-circular  avenue 
leading  to  the  house. 

It  was  now  quite  dark;  but  the  front  of  the  house  was  lighted 
up,  holding  forth,  as  it  were,  its  hands  in  welcome. 

As  he  rode  up  and  dismounted  a  servant  took  his  horse. 

And  as  he  walked  up  the  front  steps  Mr.  Brudenell  cama 
out  of  the  front  door  and,  holding  out  his  hand,  said  cordially: 

"  You  are  welcome,  my  dear  Ishmael !  I  received  your  letter 
this  morning,  and  have  been  looking  for  you  all  afternoon ! " 

"  And  I  am  very  glad  to  get  here  at  last,  sir,"  said  Ishmael, 
returning  the  fervent  pressure  of  his  father's  hands. 

"  Come  up,  my  boy !  Felix,  go  before  us  with  the  light  to 
the  room  prepared  for  Mr.  Worth,"  he  said  to  a  mulatto  boy 
who  was  waiting  in  the  hall. 

Felix  immediately  led  the  way  upstairs  to  a  large  back  room, 
whose  windows  overlooked  the  star-lit,  dew-spangled  garden, 
and  which  Ishmael  at  once  recognized  as  the  happy  schoolroom 
of  his  boyhood,  now  transformed  into  his  bedroom.  He  wel 
comed  the  old  familiar  walls  with  all  his  heart;  he  was  glad  to 
be  in  them. 

Mr.  Brudenell  himself  took  care  that  Ishmael  had  everything 
he  was  likely  to  want,  and  then  he  left  him. 

When  Ishmael  had  changed  his  dress  he  went  below  to  the 
drawing  room,  where  he  found  his  father  waiting.  The  late 
dinner  was  immediately  served. 

Old  Jovial,  who  on  account  of  his  age  and  infirmity  had  been 
left  to  vegetate  on  the  estate,  waited  on  the  table. 

He  stole  wistful  glances  at  the  strange  young  man  who  was 
his  master's  guest,  and  who  somehow  or  other  reminded  him 
of  somebody  whom  he  felt  he  ought  to  remember,  but  knew  he 
could  not. 

At  length  Ishmael,  attracted  by  his  covert  regards,  looked 
at  him  in  return,  and  in  spite  of  his  bowed  and  shrunken  form 
and  thinned  and  whitened  hair,  recognized  the  old  friend  of  hia 
boyhood,  and  exclaimed,  as  he  offered  his  hand : 

"  Why,  Jovial,  it  is  never  you !  " 

"  Mr.  Ishmael,  sir,  it's  never  you ! "  returned  the  old  maa 
with  a  grin  of  joyful  recognition. 

They  shook  hands  then  and  there. 

And  old  Jovial  showed  his  increased  regard  for  the  guest  by 


66          SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROSI  THE 

continually  proffering  bread,  vegetables,  meat,  poultry,  pepper, 
salt,  in  short,  everything  in  succession  over  and  over  again, 
thereby  effectually  preventing  Ishmael  from  eating  his  dinner, 
by  compelling  his  constant  attention  to  these  offerings;  until 
at  length  Mr.  Brudenell  interfered  and  brought  him  to  reason. 

The  next  morning  Mr.  Brudenell  proposed  to  Ishmael  to  go 
out  for  a  day's  shooting.  And  accordingly  they  took  their 
fowling-pieces,  called  the  dogs  and  started  for  the  wooded  val 
ley  where  game  most  abounded. 

They  spent  the  day  pleasantly,  bagged  many  liirds  and  re 
turned  home  to  a  late  dinner;  and  the  evening  closed  as  before. 

"  What  would  you  like  to  do  with  yourself  this  morning, 
Ishmael  ? "  inquired  Mr.  Brudenell,  as  they  were  seated  at 
breakfast  on  Thursday. 

"  I  wish  to  go  in  search  of  a  valued  old  friend  of  mine, 
known  in  this  neighborhood  as  the  Professor  of  Odd  Jobs,"  was 
the  reply. 

"  Oh,  Morris.  Yes.  You  will  find  him,  I  fancy,  in  the  old 
place,  just  on  the  edge  of  the  estate,"  replied  Mr.  Brudenell. 

And  when  they  arose  from  the  table  the  latter  went  out  and 
mounted  his  horse  to  ride  to  the  post  office,  for  Herman  Bru- 
denell's  establishment  was  now  reduced  to  so  small  a  number  of 
servants  that  he  was  compelled  to  be  his  own  postman.  To  be 
plain  with  you,  there  were  but  two  servants — old  Jovial,  who 
was  gardener,  coachman,  and  waiter;  and  old  Dinah,  his  wife, 
who  was  cook,  laundress,  and  chambermaid. 

Felix,  the  lad  mentioned  in  the  beginning  of  this  chapter, 
was  scarcely  to  be  called  one,  upon  account  of  the  mental  im 
becility  that  confined  his  usefulness  to  such  simple  duties  aa 
running  little  errands  from  room  to  room  about  the  house. 

So  Mr.  Brudenell  rode  off  to  the  post  office,  and  Ishmael 
walked  off  to  the  cottage  occupied  by  Jim  Morris. 

CHAPTER  XL 

THE  PROFESSOR  OF  ODD  JOBS. 

An  ancient  man,  hoary  gray  with  eld. 

—Dante. 

The  little  house  was  situated  right  at  the  foot  of  the  hil) 
south  of  Brudenell  Hall. 

Ishmael  approached  it  from  behind  and  walked  around  to  the 


THE   PROFESSOR   OF   ODD   JOBS.  6t 

front.  He  opened  the  little  wooden  gate  of  the  front  yard  and 
saw  seated  in  the  front  door,  enjoying  that  early  autumn  morn 
ing,  a  stalwart  old  man,  whose  well-marked  features  and  high 
forehead  were  set  in  a  rim  of  hair  and  beard  as  white  as  snow. 
A  most  respectable  and  venerable-looking  form,  indeed,  though 
the  raiment  that  clothed  it  was  old  and  patched.  But  Ishmael 
had  to  look  again  before  he  could  recognize  in  this  reverend 
personage  the  Professor  of  Odd  Jobs. 

A  curiosity  to  know  whether  the  professor  would  recognize 
him  induced  Ishmael  to  approach  him  as  a  stranger.  As  he 
came  into  the  yard,  however,  Morris  arose  slowly,  and,  lifting 
his  old  felt  hat,  bowed  courteously  to  the  supposed  stranger. 

"Your  name  is  Morris,  I  believe,"  said  Ishmael,  by  way  of 
opening  a  conversation. 

But  at  the  first  word  the  professor  started  and  gazed  at  his 
visitor,  and  exclaiming :  "  Young  Ishmael !  Oh,  my  dear  boy, 
how  glad  I  am  to  see  you  once  more  before  I  die ! "  burst  into 
tears. 

Ishmael  went  straight  into  his  embrace,  and  the  old  odd-job 
man  pressed  the  young  gentleman  to  his  honest,  affectionate 
heart. 

"You  knew  me  at  once,  professor,"  said  Ishmael  affection 
ately. 

"  Knew  you,  my  boy ! "  burst  out  the  old  man,  with  enthu 
siasm.  "  Why,  I  knew  you  as  soon  as  ever  you  looked  at  me 
and  spoke  to  me.  I  knew  you  by  your  steady,  smiling  eyes  and 
by  your  rich,  sweet  voice,  young  Ishmael.  No  one  has  a  look 
and  a  tone  like  yours." 

"  You  think  so  because  you  like  me,  professor." 

"  And  how  you  have  grown !  And  they  tell  me  that  you  have 
risen  to  be  a  great  lawyer  ?  I  knew  it  was  in  you  to  do  it ! " 
said  the  professor,  holding  the  young  man  off  and  gazing  at 
him  with  all  a  father's  pride. 

"By  the  blessing  of  Heaven,  I  have  been  successful,  dear 
old  friend,"  said  Ishmael  affectionately;  "but  how  has  it  bee? 
with  you,  all  these  years  ? "  he  asked. 

"How  has  it  been  with  me?  Ah,  young  Ishmael — I  shoula 
Bay  'Mr.  Worth.'" 

"  Young  Ishmael,  professor." 

"No,  no;  'Mr.  Worth.'  I  shall  love  you  none  the  less  by 
honoring  you  more.  And  with  me  you  are  henceforth  'Mr, 
Worth.' " 


68  SELF-RAISED  ;    OR,    FROM    THE    DEPTHS. 

"  As  you  please,  professor.  But  I  hope  it  has  been  well  with 
you  all  these  years  ?  " 

"  Come  in,  Mr.  Worth,  and  sit  down  and  I  will  tell  you." 

The  professor  led  the  way  into  the  humble  dwelling.  It  waa 
as  neat  as  ever,  with  its  sanded  floor,  flag-bottom  chairs,  and 
pine  tables, — all  of  the  professor's  manufacture, — and  its 
bright  tinware  and  clean  crockery  ranged  in  order  on  its  well- 
"crubbed  shelves. 

But  its  look  of  solitude  struck  a  chill  upon  Ishmael's  spirits. 

"  Where  are  they  all,  professor  ? "  he  inquired. 

"  Gone,  Mr.  Worth,"  answered  Morris  solemnly,  as  he  placed 
a  chair  for  his  guest. 

"  Gone !  not  dead ! "  exclaimed  Ishmael,  dropping  into  the 
offered  seat. 

"Not  all  dead,  but  all  gone,"  answered  the  professor  sadly, 
letting  himself  sink  into  a  seat  near  Ishmael. 

"Your   wife?"   inquired   the   young   man. 

"  There — and  there,"  answered  the  professor,  pointing  first 
down  and  then  up;  "her  body  is  in  the  earth;  her  soul  in 
heaven,  I  hope." 

"And  your  daughters,  professor?"  inquired  Ishmael,  in  a 
voice  of  sympathy. 

"  Both  married,  Mr.  Worth.  Ann  Maria  married  Lewis 
Digges,  old  Commodore  Burghe's  boy  that  he  set  free  before 
he  died,  and  they  have  moved  up  to  Washington  to  better  them 
selves,  and  they're  doing  right  well,  as  I  hear.  He  drives  a 
hack  and  she  clear  starches.  They  have  three  children,  two 
girls  and  a  boy.  I  have  never  seen  one  of  them  yet." 

"  And  your  other  daughter?  " 

"  Mary  Ellen  ?  She  married  Henry  Parsons,  a  free  man,  by 
trade  a  blacksmith,  and  they  live  in  St.  Inigoeg.  They  have 
one  child,  a  boy.  I  haven't  seen  them  either  since  they  have 
been  married." 

"  And  you  are  quite  alone  ? "  said  Ishmael,  in  a  tender  voice. 

"  Quite  alone,  young  Ishmael,"  answered  the  professor,  who 
forgot  on  this  occasion  to  call  his  sometime  pupil  Mr.  Worth. 

"  And  how  is  business,  professor  ?  " 

"Business  has  fallen  off  considerably;  indeed  I  may  say  it 
has  fallen  off  altogether." 

"I  am  very  sorry  to  hear  it.    How  is  that,  professor? " 

"  Why,  you  see,  Mr.  Worth,  its  falling  off  is  the  natural 
result  of  time  and  progress,  of  which  I  cannot  complain,  and  at 


THE   PROFESSOR   OF   ODD   JOBS.  69 

which  I  ought  to  rejoice.  It  was  all  very  well  for  the  neigh 
borhood  to  patronize  a  Jack  of  all  trades  like  me  when  there 
was  nothing  better  to  be  had ;  but  now  you  see  there  are  lots  of 
regular  mechanics  been  gradually  coming  down  and  settling 
here — carpenters  and  stone-masons  and  painters  and  glaziers 
and  plumbers  and  tinners  and  saddlers  and  shoemakers,  and 
what  not.  Law,  why  you  might  have  seen  their  signs  as  you 
rode  through  Baymouth." 

"  I  did." 

"Well,  you  see  these  mechanics,  they  have  journeymen  and 
apprentices  with  their  trades  at  their  fingers'  ends,  and  they 
can  do  their  work  not  only  easier  and  quicker  and  better  than 
I  can,  but  even  cheaper.  So  I  cannot  complain  that  they  have 
taken  the  custom  of  the  neighborhood  from  me." 

"  Professor,  I  really  do  admire  the  justice  and  forbearance 
of  your  nature." 

"  Well,  young  Ishmael,  there  was  another  thing.  I  was  get 
ting  too  old  to  tramp  miles  and  miles  through  the  country  with 
a  heavy  pack  on  my  back,  as  I  used  to  do." 

"  Well,  then,  I  hope  you  have  saved  a  little  money,  at  least, 
old  friend,  to  make  you  comfortable  in  your  old  age,"  said  Ish 
mael  feelingly. 

The  poor,  old  odd-job  man  looked  up  with  a  humorous 
twinkle  in  his  eye,  as  he  replied: 

"  Why,  law,  young  Ishmael,  the  idea  of  my  saving  money  1 
When  had  I  ever  a  chance  to  do  it  in  the  best  o'  days?  Why, 
Ishmael,  they  say  how  ministers  of  the  gospel  and  teachers  of 
youth  are  the  worst  paid  men  in  the  community;  but  I  think, 
judging  by  my  own  case,  that  professors  are  quite  as  poorly 
remunerated.  It  used  to  take  everything  I  could  rake  and 
scrape  to  keep  my  family  together;  and  so,  young  Ishmael,  I 
haven't  saved  a  dollar." 

"  Is  that  so  ? "  asked  Ishmael,  in  a  voice  of  pain. 

"  True  as  gospel,  young  Ishmael — Mr.  Worth." 

"  How  then  do  you  manage  to  live,  Morris  ?  I  ask  this  from 
the  kindest  of  feelings." 

"  Don't  I  know  it,  young — Mr.  Worth.  Well,  sir,  I  do  an  odd 
job  once  in  a  while  yet,  for  the  colored  people,  and  that  keeps 
me  from  starving,"  said  the  professor,  with  a  smile. 

Ishmael  fell  into  a  deep  thought  for  a  while,  and  then  lifting 
his  head,  said : 

"Well,  professor,  you  have  been  in  your  day  and  generatioi 


70  SELF-EAISED;  OE,  FROM  THE  DEFIHS. 

as  useful  a  man  to  your  fellow-creatures  as  any  other  in  thia 
world.  You  have  contributed  as  much  to  the  comfort  and  well- 
being  of  the  community  in  which  you  live  as  any  other  member 
of  it!  And  you  should  not  and  you  shall  not  be  left  in  your 
old  age,  either  to  suffer  from  want  or  to  live  on  charity " 

"  I  may  suffer  for  want,  Mr.  Worth,  but  I  never  will  consent 
to  live  on  charity !  "  said  the  odd-job  man  with  dignity. 

"  That  I  am  sure  you  never  will,  professor ;  though  mind !  I 
do  not  believe  it  to  be  any  degradation  to  live  by  charity  when 
one  cannot  live  in  any  other  way.  For  if  all  men  are  brethren 
should  not  the  able  brother  help  the  disabled  brother,  and  that 
•without  humbling  him  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  but  I  am  not  disabled,  young — Mr.  Worth.  I  am  only 
disused." 

"  That  is  very  true.  And  therefore  I  spoke  as  I  did  when  I 
said  just  now  that  you  should  not  suffer  from  want  nor  live  by 
charity.  Listen  to  me,  professor.  I  have  a  proposition  to  make 
to  you.  Your  daughters  are  all  married  and  your  work  is  done; 
you  are  alone  and  idle  here.  But  you  are  not  a  mere  animal  to 
be  tied  down  to  one  spot  of  earth  by  local  attachment.  You 
are  a  very  intelligent  man  with  a  progressive  mind.  You  will 
never  stop  improving,  professor.  You  have  improved  very 
much  in  the  last  few  years.  I  notice  it  in  your  conversa- 
tion " 

"  I  am  glad  you  think  so,  young — Mr.  Worth !  but  I'm  getting 
aged." 

"  What  of  that  ?  You  are  '  traveling  towards  the  light,'  and 
after  improving  all  your  life  here  you  will  go  on  progressing 
through  all  eternity." 

"Well,  sir,  that  thought  ought  to  be  a  great  comfort  to  an 
old  man." 

"Yes.  Now  what  I  want  to  propose  to  you  is  this — I  think 
you  love  me,  professor  ? " 

"Love  you,  young — Mr.  Worth!  Why  the  Lord  in  heaven 
bless  your  dear  heart,  I  love  you  better  than  I  do  anything  on 
the  face  of  the  earth,  and  that's  a  fact,"  said  the  professor,  with 
his  face  all  in  a  glow  of  feeling. 

And  all  who  knew  him  might  have  known  that  he  spoke  truth ; 
for  though  he  was  not  in  the  least  degree  deficient  in  affection 
for  his  daughters,  yet  his  love  of  Ishmael  amounted  almost 
to  idolatry. 

"Dear  old  friend,  I  will  prove  to  you  some  day  how  high  a 


THE   PROFESSOR   OF   ODD    JOBS.  Yl 

value  T  set  upon  your  love.  I  think,  professor,  that  loving  me, 
as  you  do,  you  could  live  happily  with  me  ? " 

"  What  did  you  say,  young — Mr.  Worth  ?  I  did  not  quite 
understand." 

"  I  will  be  plain,  professor.  You  have  lived  out  your  present 
life  here;  it  is  gone.  Now,  instead  of  vegetating  on  here  any 
longer,  come  into  another  sphere,  a  more  enlarged  and  active 
sphere,  where  your  thoughts  as  well  as  your  hands  will  find  em 
ployment  and  your  mind  as  well  as  your  body  have  food." 

"  How  is  that  to  be  done,  young — Mr.  Worth  ?  " 

"  Come  with  me  to  Washington.  I  have  a  suite  of  three  very 
pleasant  rooms  in  the  house  where  I  board.  Now  suppose  you 
come  and  live  with  me  and  take  care  of  my  rooms?  Your  ser 
vices  would  be  worth  a  good,  liberal  salary,  from  which  you 
would  be  enabled  to  live  very  comfortably  and  save  money." 

"  What,  young  Ishmael !  Me !  I  go  to  Washington  and  live 
with  you  all  the  time,  day  and  night,  under  one  roof!  and  live 
where  I  can  get  books  and  newspapers  and  hear  lectures  and 
debates  and  see  pictures  and  models,  and,  in  short,  come  at 
everything  I  have  been  longing  to  reach  all  my  life  ? " 

"  Yes,  professor,  that  is  what  I  propose  to  you." 

"  There !  I  used  to  say  that  you'd  live  to  be  a  blessing  to 
my  declining  years,  young — Mr.  Worth  (I  declare  I'll  not  fcr- 
get  myself  again),  Mr.  Worth!  there!  Do  you  really  mean 
it,  sir?" 

"  Eeally  and  truly." 

"  There,  then,  I  am  not  going  to  be  a  hypocrite  and  pretend 
to  higgle-haggle  about  it.  I'll  go,  sir;  and  be  proud  to  do  it; 
it  will  be  taking  a  new  lease  of  life  for  me  to  go.  Do  you  know, 
I  never  was  in  a  large  city  in  all  my  life,  though  I  have  always 
longed  to  go  ?  Well,  sir,  I'll  go  with  you.  And  I  will  serve  you 
faithfully,  sir;  for  mine  will  be  a  service  for  love  more  than 
for  money.  And  I  will  never  forget  the  proprieties  so  far  as  to 
call  you  anything  else  but  '  Mr.  Worth,'  or  '  sir,'  in  the  presence 
of  others,  sir,  though  my  heart  does  betray  me  into  calling 
you  young  Ishmael  sometimes  here." 

"  I  shall  leave  here  on  Saturday  morning.  Can  you  be  ready 
to  go  with  me  as  soon  as  that  ? " 

"  Of  course  I  can,  Mr.  Worth.  There's  nothing  for  me  to  do 
in  the  way  of  preparation  but  to  pack  my  knapsack  and  lock 
my  door,"  answered  this  "  Rough  and  Ready." 

"Very  well,  then,  professor,  I  like  your  promptitude.    Meet 


72  SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

me  at  Brudenell  Hall  on  Saturday  morning  at  seven  o'clock, 
and  in  the  meantime  I  will  find  a  conveyance  for  you/' 

"All  right;  thank  you,  sir;  I  will  be  ready." 

And  Ishmael  shook  hands  with  the  professor  and  departed, 
leaving  him  hopeful  and  happy. 

At  the  dinner-table  that  day,  being  questioned  by  his  father, 
Ishmael  told  him  of  the  retainer  he  had  engaged. 

"Ah,  my  dear  boy,  it  is  just  like  you  to  burden  yourself 
with  the  presence  and  support  of  that  poor  old  man,  and  per 
suade  him — and  yourself,  too,  perhaps — that  you  are  securing 
the  services  of  an  invaluable  assistant.  And  all  with  no  other 
motive  than  his  welfare,"  said  Mr.  Brudenell. 

"Indeed,  sir,  I  think  it  will  add  to  my  happiness  to  have 
Morris  with  me.  I  like  and  esteem  the  old  man,  and  I  believe 
that  he  really  will  be  of  much  use  to  me,"  replied  the  son. 

"  Well,  I  hope  so,  Ishmael ;  I  hope  so." 

There  was  through  all  his  talk  a  preoccupied  air  about  Mr. 
Brudenell  that  troubled  his  son,  who  at  last  said: 

"I  hope,  sir,  that  you  have  received  no  unpleasant  news  by 
this  mail?" 

"  Oh,  no;  no,  Ishmael!  but  I  have  had  on  my  mind  for  sev 
eral  days  something  of  which  I  wish  to  speak  to  you " 

"Yes,  sir?" 

"  Ishmael,  since  I  have  been  down  here  I  have  followed  your 
counsel.  I  have  gone  about  among  my  tenants  and  dependents, 
and — without  making  inquiries — I  have  led  them  to  speak  of 
the  long  period  of  my  absence  from  my  little  kingdom,  and  of 
the  manner  in  which  Lady  Hurstmonceux  administered  its 
affairs.  And,  Ishmael,  I  have  heard  but  one  account  of  her. 
With  one  voice  the  community  here  accord  her  the  highest 
praise." 

"  I  told  you  so,  sir." 

"As  a  wife,  though  an  abandoned  one,  as  mistress  of  the 
house,  and  as  lady  of  the  manor,  she  seems  to  have  performed 
all  her  duties  in  the  most  unexceptionable  manner." 

"Everyone  knows  that,  sir." 

"But  still  remains  the  charge  not  yet  refuted." 

"Because  you  have  given  her  no  chance  to  refute  it,  sir. 
Be  just !  Put  her  on  her  defense,  and  my  word  for  it,  she  will 
exonerate  herself."  said  Ishmael  earnestly. 

Mr.  Brudenell  shook  his  head. 

"  There  are  some  things,  Ishmael,  that  on  the  very  face  of 


THE   JOURNEY,  73 

them  admit  of  no  defense,"  said  Mr.  Brudenell,  with  an  emphasis 
that  put  an  end  to  the  conversation. 

Punctually  at  seven  o'clock  Saturday  the  professor,  accou- 
tered  for  a  journey,  with  knapsack  on  his  back,  presented  him 
self  at  the  servant's  door  at  Brudenell  Hall. 

His  arrival  being  announced,  Ishmael  came  out  to  meet  him. 

"  Well,  here  I  am,  Mr.  Worth ;  though  how  I  am  to  travel  I 
don't  know.  I  have  walked,  by  faith,  so  far !  "  he  said. 

"  All  right,  professor.  Mr.  Brudenell  will  lend  me  an  extra 
horse." 

And  father  and  son  took  leave  of  each  other  with  earnest 
wishes  for  their  mutual  good. 

CHAPTEK  XII. 

THE  JOURNEY. 

Ever  charming,  ever  new, 

When  will  the  landscape  tire  the  view? 

The  fountains  fall,  the  rivers  flow, 

The  woody  valleys,  warm  and  low, 

The  windy  summit,  wild  and  high, 

Ikmghly  rushing  on  the  sky! 

The  pleasant  seat,  the  chapel  tower, 

The  naked  rock,  the  shady  bower, 

The  town  and  village,  dome  and  farm, 

Each  gave  each  a  double  charm, 

As  pearls  upon  a  woman's  arm. 

—Dyer. 

Ishmael  and  his  aged  retainer  rode  on,  down  the  elm-shaded 
avenue  and  out  upon  the  turnpike  road.  There  seemed  to  be 
a  special  fitness  in  the  relations  between  these  two.  Ishmael, 
you  are  aware,  was  a  very  handsome,  stately,  and  gracious 
young  man.  And  the  professor  was  the  tallest,  gravest,  and 
most  respectable  of  servants.  Ah,  their  relative  positions  were 
changed  since  twelve  years  before,  when  they  used  to  travel 
that  same  road  on  foot,  as  "  boss  "  and  "  boy." 

Many  men  in  Ishmael's  position  would  have  shrunk  from  all 
that  would  have  reminded  them  of  the  poverty  from  which 
they  had  sprung;  and  would  have  avoided  as  much  as  possible 
all  persons  who  were  familiar  with  their  early  struggles. 

But  Ishmael  did  not  so.  While  pressing  forward  to  the  duties 
and  distinctions  of  the  future,  with  burning  aspiration  and 
untiring  energy,  he  held  the  places  and  persons  of  the  past  ip 
most  affectionate  remembrance. 


74  SELF-EAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

To  a  vain  or  haughty  man  in  Ishmael's  situation  there  could 
scarcely  have  occurred  a  more  humiliating  circumstance  than 
the  constant  presence  of  the  poor,  old  odd- jobber,  whose  "  boy  * 
he  had  once  been. 

But  Ishmael  was  neither  the  one  nor  the  other;  he  was  in 
tellectual  and  affectionate.  His  breadth  of  mind  took  in  hia 
past  memories,  his  present  position,  and  his  future  prospects, 
and  saw  them  all  in  perfect  harmony.  And  his  depth  of  heart 
found  room  for  the  humblest  friends  of  his  wretched  infancy, 
as  well  as  for  the  higher  loves  of  his  manhood's  prime. 

Ishmael  was  at  ease  with  the  old  odd-job  man,  and  he  would 
have  been  at  ease  with  his  imperial  majesty,  had  circumstances 
brought  him  into  the  immediate  circle  of  the  Czar;  because 
from  the  depths  of  his  soul  he  was  intensely  conscious  of  the 
innate  majesty  of  man. 

Ishmael  had  no  more  need  of  a  servant  than  a  coach  has  of 
a  fifth  wheel.  He  took  the  professor  into  his  service  for  no  other 
purpose  than  to  take  care  of  the  poor  old  man  and  make  him 
happy,  never  foreseeing  how  really  useful  and  important  this 
gray-haired  retainer  would  eventually  become  to  him.  He  was 
planning  only  the  professor's  happiness,  not  his  own  convenience. 
But  he  found  both. 

As  they  rode  along  that  pleasant  September  morning  he  was 
pleasing  himself  with  thinking  how  that  intelligent  old  man, 
starved  all  his  life  for  mental  food,  would  delight  himself  amid 
the  intellectual  wealth  of  his  new  life. 

They  were  approaching  the  turn-stile  at  the  cross-roads, 
memorable  for  the  weary  watchings  of  Lady  Hurstmonceux. 

As  they  reached  the  spot  and  took  the  road  leading  to  Bay- 
mouth  Ishmael  looked  back  to  the  professor,  who,  as  he  felt  in 
duty  bound  to  do,  rode  in  the  rear  of  his  master,  and,  as  was 
natural,  looked  a  little  serious. 

"Do  you  remember,  professor,  how  often  you  and  I  have 
traveled  afoot  up  and  down  this  road  in  the  exercise  of  our  use 
ful  calling  of  odd-jobbing?  Your  great  shoulders  bowed  under 
an  enormous  load  of  pots,  pans,  kettles,  umbrellas,  and  every 
thing  that  required  your  surgical  skill;  and  my  little  back 
bent  beneath  the  basket  of  tools  ? "  inquired  Ishmael,  by  way  of 
diverting  him. 

"  Ah,  do  I  not,  sir !  But  why  recall  those  days  ?  You  have 
left  them  far  behind,  sir,"  said  the  professor,  in  grave  con 
sideration  of  his  master's  dignity. 


THE  JOUKNEY.  75 

"Because  I  like  to  recall  them,  professor.  It  quickens  my 
gratitude  to  the  Lord  for  all  his  marvelous  mercies,  and  it 
deepens  my  love  for  my  friends  for  their  goodness  to  me  then," 
jaid  Ishmael  fervently. 

"  The  Lord  knows  I  don't  know  who  was  good  to  you  then ! 
Of  course,  now,  sir,  there  are  multitudes  of  people  who  would 
be  proud  to  be  numbered  among  your  friends.  But  then,  of  all 
the  abandoned  children  that  ever  I  saw,  you  were  about  the 
most  friendless,"  said  the  professor,  with  much  feeling. 

"  You,  for  one,  were  good  to  me,  professor ;  and  I  do  not  for 
get  it." 

"  Ah,  the  Lord  knows  it  was  but  little  I  could  do." 

"  What  you  did  do  was  vital  to  me,  professor.  My  life  was 
but  a  little  flame,  in  danger  of  dying  out.  You  fed  it  with 
little  chips,  and  kept  it  alive." 

"  And  it  burns  great  hickory  logs  now,  and  warms  the  world," 
said  the  professor,  looking  proudly  and  fondly  upon  the  fine 
young  man  before  him. 

"  It  shall  at  least  warm  and  shelter  your  age,  professor. 
And  whatever  of  prosperity  the  Lord  accords  me,  you  shall 
share." 

As  he  said  these  words  he  turned  an  affectionate  look  on 
his  retainer,  and  saw  the  tears  rolling  down  the  old  man's 
cheeks. 

"  It  was  but  a  few,  poor  crumbs  I  cast  upon  the  waters,  that 
all  this  bread  should  come  back  to  me  after  many  days,"  he 
muttered  in  a  broken  voice. 

"  We  were  really  very  happy,  professor,  when  we  used  to 
trudge  the  road  together,  plying  our  profession;  but  we  are  go 
ing  to  be  much  happier  now,  because  our  lives  will  be  enlarged." 

The  professor  smiled  assent  and  they  rode  on. 

They  passed  through  Baymouth,  where  the  professor  directed 
his  master's  attention  to  the  new  signs  of  the  mechanics  who 
had  taken  his  custom  from  him. 

"  But  it  is  a  true  saying,  sir,  that  there  never  was  one  door 
closed  but  what  there  was  another  opened.  Many  doors  were 
closed  against  me  at  once;  but  just  see  what  a  broad,  beautiful 
door  you  have  opened  to  me,  letting  me  into  a  glorious  new 
life!" 

"  Life  is  what  we  make  of  it,  professor.  To  you,  who  will  ap 
preciate  and  enjoy  every  good  thing  in  it,  no  doubt  your  ne\v 
life  will  be  very  happy,"  replied  Ishmael. 


76  SELF-KAISED  ;    OK,    FROM   THE   DEPTHS, 

And  so  conversing  they  passed  through  the  town  and  cn« 
tered  the  deep  forest  that  lay  along  the  shores  of  the  river  be 
tween  Baymouth  and  Shelton. 

They  rode  all  the  morning  through  the  pleasant  woods  and 
stopped  an  hour  at  noon  to  rest  and  refresh  themselves  and 
their  horses;  and  then  resumed  their  journey  and  rode  all  the 
afternoon  and  arrived  at  Woodside  just  as  the  sun  was  setting. 

As  before,  Reuben,  Hannah,  Sam,  Sally,  the  children,  and 
the  dog,  all  rushed  out  to  welcome  Ishmael. 

Much  astonished  was  Hannah  to  see  her  old  friend,  the  pro 
fessor,  and  much  delighted  to  hear  that  he  was  going  up  to 
Washington  to  fill  the  place  of  major-domo  to  IshmaeL  For 
Hannah  shared  the  old  woman's  superstition,  that  the  young 
man  is  never  able  to  take  care  of  himself;  and  notwithstand 
ing  all  that  had  come  and  gone — notwithstanding  that  Ishmael 
had  taken  care  of  himself  and  her  too,  from  the  time  he 
was  eight  years  old,  for  years  more,  still  she  thought  that  he 
would  be  all  the  safer  for  having  "  an  old  head  to  look  after 
him." 

There  was  plenty  of  news  to  tell,  too. 

As  soon  as  the  bounteous  supper  that  Reuben  and  Hannah 
always  provided  for  favored  guests  was  over,  and  they  were  all 
gathered  around  the  bright  little  wood  fire  that  the  capricious 
autumn  weather  rendered  desirable,  the  budget  was  opened. 

Lord  and  Lady  Vincent  were  to  have  an  evening  reception 
at  Tanglewood. 

And  on  the  first  of  October  they  were  to  sail  for  Europe. 

Lady  Vincent  was  going  to  take  three  of  the  servants  with 
her — old  Aunt  Katie,  Jim,  and  Sally. 

Jim  was  to  go  as  lady's  footman;  Sally  as  lady's  maid;  and 
old  Aunt  Katie  in  no  particular  capacity,  but  because  she  re 
fused  to  be  separated  from  the  two  beings  she  loved  the  most  of 
all  in  the  world. 

She  had  nursed  Miss  Claudia,  and  she  was  bound  to  nurse 
Miss  Claudia's  children,  she  said. 

Lady  Vincent  had  decided  to  take  her,  and  was  rather  glad 
to  do  it. 

Lord  Vincent,  it  was  supposed,  did  not  like  the  arrangement, 
and  stigmatized  the  black  servants  as  "  gorillas,"  but  Lady  Vin 
cent,  it  was  confidently  asserted,  never  deigned  to  consult  his 
lordship,  or  pay  the  slightest  attention  to  his  prejudices.  And 
so  matters  stood  for  the  present. 


THE   JOURNEY.  77 

'All  this  was  communicated  to  Ishmael  by  Reuben  and  Han 
nah.  And  in  the  midst  of  their  talk,  in  walked  one  of  the  sub 
jects  of  their  conversation — Aunt  Katie, 

She  was  immediately  welcomed  and  provided  with  a  seat  in 
the  chimney-corner.  She  was  inflated  with  the  subject  of  her 
expected  voyage  and  glowing  with  the  importance  of  her  an 
ticipated  office.  She  expatiated  on  the  preparations  in  progress. 

"  But  don't  you  feel  sorry  to  leave  your  native  home,  Aunt 
Katie?"  inquired  Hannah. 

"Who,  me?  No,  'deed!  I  takes  my  native  home  along 
with  me  when  I  takes  Miss  Claudia  and  Jim  and  Sally!  For 
what  says  the  catechism  ? — '  'tis  home  where'er  de  heart  is  I ' 
And  my  heart  is  'long  o'  de  chillun.  'Sides  which  I  don't  want 
to  be  allus  stuck  down  in  one  place  like  an  old  tree  as  can't 
be  moved  without  killing  of  it.  I'm  a  living  soul,  I  am,  and 
I  wants  to  go  and  see  somethin'  of  this  here  world  afore  I  goes 
hence  and  bees  no  more,"  said  Katie  briskly. 

Evidently  Katie  was  a  progressive  spirit,  and  would  not  have 
hesitated  to  emigrate  to  Liberia  or  any  other  new  colony  where 
she  could  better  herself  or  her  children,  and  begin  life  afresh 
at  fifty. 

At  last  Katie  got  up  to  go,  and  bade  them  all  a  patronizing 
farewell. 

Sally,  and  Jim,  who  as  usual  was  spending  his  evening  with 
her,  arose  to  accompany  Katie. 

And  Ishmael  took  his  hat  and  walked  out  after  them. 

Very  much  embarrassed  they  were  at  this  unusual  honor, 
which  they  could  in  no  wise  understand,  until  at  length  when 
they  had  gone  some  little  way  into  the  woods  Ishmael  said : 

"  I  have  something  to  say  to  you  three." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Katie,  speaking  for  the  rest. 

"Katie,  you  are  acquainted  with  that  psychological  mystery 
called  presentiment,  for  I  have  heard  you  speak  of  it,"  said 
Ishmael,  smiling  half  in  doubt,  half  in  derision  of  his  present 
feelings. 

"Ye-es,  sir,"  answered  Katie  hesitatingly,  "I  believe  in  per- 
sentiments;  though  what  you  mean  by  sigh-what's-its-name,  I 
don't  know." 

"  Never  mind,  Katie,  you  believe  in  presentiments  ? " 

"  Indeed  do  I !  and  got  reason  to,  too !  Why,  law !  the  month 
before  Mrs.  Merlin,  as  was  Miss  Claudia's  mother,  died-  I 
ippirienced  the  most  'stonishing " 


78  SELF-RAISED  '    OR,    FROM    THE    DEPTHS. 

"  Yes,  I  know.    You  told  me  all  about  that  before,  Katie." 

"  Why,  so  I  did,  to  be  sure,  sir,  when  you  were  lying  wounded 
at  the  house ! " 

"Yes.  Well,  Katie,  some  such  feeling  as  that  of  which  you 
speak,  vague,  but  very  strong,  impels  me  to  say  what  I  am  about 
to  say  to  you  all.'' 

"  Yes,  sir.  Listen,  chillun ! "  said  Katie,  in  a  voice  of  such 
awful  solemnity  that  Ishmael  again  smiled  at  what  he  was  in 
clined  to  characterize  as  the  absurdity  of  believing  in  presenti 
ments. 

"You  three  are  going  to  Europe  in  attendance  upan  Lady 
Vincent." 

"  Yes,  sir.  Listen,  chillun ! "  again  said  Katie,  keeping  her 
eyes  fixed  upon  Ishmael  and  nudging  her  companions  right 
and  left  with  her  elbows. 

"  You  will  be  all  of  her  friends,  all  of  her  native  country,  al) 
of  her  past  life  that  she  will  take  with  her." 

"  Yes,  sir.  Listen,  chillun ! "  and  another  elbow  dig,  right 
and  left. 

"  She  is  going  among  strangers,  foreigners,  possibly  rivals  and 
enemies." 

"  Yes,  sir.    Listen,  chillun — now  it's  a-comin' !  " 

"  She  may  need  all  your  devotion.  Be  vigilant,  therefore. 
Watch  over  her,  care  for  her,  think  for  her,  pray  for  her;  let 
her  honor  and  happiness  be  the  one  charge  and  object  of  your 
lives." 

"  Yes,  sir.    Listen,  chillun !  you  hears,  don't  you  ?  " 

A  sharp  reminder  right  and  left  brought  out  the  responses 
u  yes  "  and  "  yes  "  from  Jim  and  Sally. 

"And  when  you  are  far  away  you  will  remember  all  this 
that  I  have  said  to  you;  for,  as  I  told  you  before,  I  feel,  deep 
in  my  spirit,  that  your  lady  will  need  your  utmost  devotion," 
said  Ishmael  earnestly. 

"You  may  count  on  me,  for  one,  Mr.  Ishmael,  sir;  not  only 
to  devote  myself  to  my  lady's  sarvice,  but  to  keep  the  ole 
'oman  and  Sally  in  mind  to  go  and  do  likewise,"  said  Jim,  with 
an  air  of  earnest  good  faith  that  could  not  be  doubted. 

"  That  is  right.  I  will  take  leave  of  you  now.  Good-by ! 
God  bless  you !  " 

And  Ishmael  shook  hands  with  them  all  around,  and  left  them 
and  walked  back  to  the  cottage. 

The  next  day,  being  the  Sabbath,  he  went  with  Hannah  and 


THE    JOUKNEY.  79 

Reuben  and  the  professor  to  church.  He  had  almost  shrunk 
from  this  duty,  in  his  dread  of  meeting  Claudia  there;  but 
she  was  not  present.  Judge  Merlin's  pew  was  empty  when  they 
entered,  and  remained  empty  during  the  whole  of  the  morning 
service. 

When  the  benediction  had  been  pronounced,  and  the  con 
gregation  were  going  out,  Ishmael  was  about  to  leave  his  pew 
when  he  saw  that  the  minister  had  come  down  from  the  pulpit 
and  was  advancing  straight  towards  him  to  speak  to  him.  He 
therefore  stopped  and  waited  for  Mr.  Wynne's  approach. 

There  was  a  shaking  of  hands  and  mutual  inquiries  as  to 
each  other's  health,  and  then  Mr.  Wynne  invited  Ishmael  to 
accompany  him  home  and  dine  with  him. 

Ishmael  thanked  him  and  declined  the  invitation,  saying 
that  he  was  with  friends. 

Mr.  Wynne  then  smilingly  shook  hands  with  Hannah  and 
Reuben  and  the  professor,  claiming  them  all  as  old  friends  and 
parishioners,  and  extending  the  invitation  to  them. 

But  Hannah  pleaded  the  children  left  at  home,  and,  with 
many  thanks,  declined  the  honor. 

And  the  friends  shook  hands  and  separated. 

Very  early  on  Monday  morning  Ishmael  and  his  gray-haired 
retainer  prepared  for  their  departure  for  Washington. 

Ishmael  left  two  commissions  for  Reuben.  The  first  was  to 
make  his  apologies  and  adieus  to  Judge  Merlin.  And  the  second 
was  to  send  back  the  horse,  borrowed  for  the  use  of  the  pro 
fessor,  to  Mr.  Brudenell  at  Brudenell  Hall.  Both  of  which 
Reuben  promised  to  execute. 

After  an  early  breakfast  Ishmael  and  his  venerable  dependent 
took  leave  of  Hannah,  the  children  and  the  dog,  and  seated 
themselves  in  the  light  wagon  that  had  been  geared  up  for 
their  accommodation,  and  were  driven  by  Reuben  to  Shelton, 
where  they  arrived  in  time  to  catch  the  "  Errand  Boy  "  on  its 
tip  trip.  Reuben  took  leave  of  them  only  half  a  minute  before 
the  boat  started. 

They  had  a  pleasant  run  up  the  river,  and  reached  the  Wash 
ington  wharf  early  on  Wednesday  morning,  where  Ishmael 
took  a  carriage  to  convey  himself,  servant,  and  his  luggage  to 
his  lodgings. 

As  they  drove  through  the  streets  the  professor,  seated  on  the 
front  seat,  bobbed  about  from  right  to  left,  looking  out  at  the 
windows  and  gazing  at  the  houses,  the  shops,  and  the  crowds 


80  SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

of  people.  Nothing  could  exceed  the  surprise  and  delight  of 
the  intellectual  but  childlike  old  man,  who  now  for  the  first 
time  in  his  life  looked  upon  a  large  city.  His  enthusiasm  at 
the  sight  of  the  Capitol  was  delicious. 

"  You  shall  go  all  through  it  some  day,  as  soon  as  we  get  set 
tled,"  said  Ishmael. 

"  There  is  only  one  thing  that  I  am  doubtful  about,"  said 
"the  professor, 

"And  what  is  that?" 

"  That  I  have  not  years  enough  left  to  live  to  see  all  the 
wonders  of  the  world." 

"  None  of  us — not  the  youngest  of  us  have,  professor.  But 
you  will  live  to  see  a  great  many.  And  by  the  time  that  you 
have  seen  everything  that  is  to  be  found  in  Washington,  I  shall 
be  ready  to  go  to  Europe;  for  I  expect  to  see  Europe  some  time 
or  other,  professor,  and  you  shall  see  it  with  me." 

"  Oh  I "  ejaculated  the  odd-job  man,  who  seemed  to  think 
that  the  millennium  was  not  far  off. 

And  at  that  moment  the  carriage  drew  up  before  Ishmael'a 
lodgings.  And  the  driver  and  the  professor  carried  the  lug 
gage  into  the  front  hall.  And  when  the  carriage  was  paid  and 
dismissed  Ishmael  conducted  the  professor  to  the  inner  office, 
where  the  two  clerks  that  were  in  charge  of  it  arose  to  wel 
come  their  principal. 

When  he  had  shaken  hands  with  them,  he  led  his  retainer 
into  the  bedroom,  and  showed  him  a  small  vacant  chamber  ad 
joining  that,  and  told  him  that  the  latter  should  be  his — the 
professor's  own  sanctuary.  Then  he  showed  the  old  man  the 
pleasant  garden,  all  blooming  now  with  late  roses,  chrysanthe 
mums,  dahlias,  and  other  gorgeous  autumn  flowers,  and  told  him 
that  there  he  might  walk  or  sit,  and  smoke  his  pipe  in  pleasant 
weather.  And  finally  he  brought  the  professor  back  to  the 
front  office,  where  he  found  his  hostesses,  Miss  Jenny  and  Miss 
Nelly  Downey,  waiting  to  welcome  him.  Nice,  delicate,  re 
fined-looking  old  maiden  ladies  they  were — tall,  thin,  and  fair 
complexioned,  with  fine,  gray  hair,  and  cobweb  lace  caps  and 
pale  gray  dresses,  and  having  pleasant  smiles  and  soft  voices. 

After  they  had  shaken  hands  with  their  ledger  they  turned 
looks  of  inquiry  upon  the  tall,  gray-haired  old  man  that  stood 
behind  him. 

"This  is  a  very  old  friend  of  mine;  I  have  engaged  him  to 
take  care  of  my  rooms;  his  name  is  Morris,  but  upon  account 


THE   JOURNEY.  81 

of  his  skill  in  many  arts  he  has  received  from  the  public  the 
title  of  professor,"  said  Ishmael,  turning  an  affectionate  look 
upon  the  old  odd- job  man. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Professor  Morris  ?  We  are  very  glad  to 
see  you,  I  am  sure;  and  we  hope  you  will  find  yourself  com 
fortable,  and  also  that  you  will  be  a  comfort  to  Mr.  Worth, 
who  is  a  very  estimable  young  gentleman  indeed,"  said  Miss 
Jenny,  speaking  for  herself  and  sister. 

"  I  cannot  fail  to  be  both  comfortable  and  happy  under  this 
honored  roof,  my  ladies ! "  said  the  professor,  in  a  most  reveren 
tial  tone,  laying  his  hand  upon  his  heart  and  making  a  pro 
found  bow  that  would  have  done  credit  to  the  most  accom 
plished  courtier  of  the  grave  and  stately  old  school. 

"  A  nice,  gentlemanly  old  person,"  said  Miss  Jenny,  nodding 
her  head  to  her  sister.  And  Miss  Nelly  said  "  Yes,"  and  nodded 
her  head  also. 

"  If  you  can  fit  up  the  little  chamber  adjoining  my  bedroom 
for  the  professor,  I  will  arrange  with  you  for  his  board,"  said 
Ishmael,  aside  to  Miss  Jenny. 

"  Oh,  certainly ;  it  shall  be  done  immediately,"  replied  the  old 
lady.  And  she  left  the  room,  followed  by  her  sister,  to  give 
orders  to  that  effect. 

And  before  night  the  professor  was  comfortably  installed  in 
his  neatly  furnished  and  well-warmed  little  room,  and  Ish- 
mael's  apartments  were  restored  to  order,  and  he  himself  in 
full  career  going  over  the  office  business  of  the  last  two  weeks 
with  his  clerks. 

He  found  a  plenty  of  work  cut  out  for  him  to  do,  and  he  re 
solved  to  be  very  busy  to  make  up  for  his  idleness  during  his 
holiday. 

Ishmael  did  not  really  wish  to  tax  his  old  servant  with  any 
labor  at  all.  He  wished  his  office  to  be  as  much  of  a  sinecure 
as  possible.  And  he  continually  urged  the  professor  to  go 
abroad  and  see  the  city  sights,  or  to  walk  in  the  garden  and 
enjoy  his  pipe,  or  rest  himself  in  his  own  room,  or  visit  his 
daughter,  the  hackman's  wife. 

The  professor  obediently  did  all  this  for  a  time;  but  as  the 
days  passed  Ishmael  saw  that  the  old  man's  greatest  happiness 
consisted  in  staying  with  and  serving  his  master;  and  so  he 
at  length  permitted  the  professor  to  relieve  the  chamber-maid 
of  her  duties  in  his  rooms,  and  take  quiet  possession  and  com 
plete  charge  of  them. 


82  SELF-RAISED;  OB,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

And  never  were  rooms  kept  in  more  perfect  order.  And,  best 
of  all,  love  taught  the  professor  the  mystic  art  of  dusting  with' 
out  deranging  papers  and  dementing  their  owner. 

Ishmael's  present  position  was  certainly  a  very  pleasant  one. 
He  not  only  found  a  real  home  in  his  boarding-house,  and  a 
faithful  friend  in  his  servant,  but  a  pair  of  aunties  in  his  land 
ladies.  Every  good  heart  brought  in  contact  with  Ishmael 
Worth  was  sure  to  love  him.  And  these  old  ladies  were  no 
exception  to  the  rule.  They  had  no  relatives  to  bestow  their 
affections  upon,  and  so,  seeing  every  day  more  of  their  young 
lodger's  worth,  they  grew  to  love  him  with  maternal  ardor. 
It  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  they  doted  on  him.  And  in  pri 
vate  they  nodded  their  heads  at  each  other  and  talked  of  Ha 
being  time  to  make  their  wills,  and  spoke  of  young  Mr.  Worth 
as  their  heir  and  executor. 

Ishmael  for  his  part  treated  the  old  ladies  with  all  the 
reverential  tenderness  that  their  age  and  womanhood  had  a 
right  to  expect  from  his  youth  and  manhood.  He  never  dreamed 
that  the  "  sweet,  small  courtesies,"  which  it  was  his  happiness 
to  bestow  alike  on  rich  and  poor,  had  won  for  him  such  signal 
favor  in  the  eyes  of  the  old  ladies.  He  knew  and  was  happy 
to  know  that  they  loved  him.  That  was  all.  He  never  dreamed 
of  being  their  heir;  he  never  even  imagined  that  they  had  any 
property  to  bequeath.  He  devoted  himself  with  conscientious 
zeal  to  his  profession,  and  went  on,  as  he  deserved  to  go  on, 
from  success  to  success. 

CHAPTER  XHI. 
LADY  VINCENT'S  RECEPTION. 

The  folds  of  her  wine-dark  violet  drees 

Glow  over  the  sofa  fall  on  fall, 
As  she  sits  in  the  light  of  her  loveliness, 

With  a  smile  for  each  and  for  all. 

Could  wo  find  out  her  heart  through  that  velvet  and  lace, 
Can  it  beat  without  rumpling  her  sumptuous  dress? 

She  will  show  us  her  shoulder,  her  bosom,  her  face, 
But  what  her  heart's  like,  we  must  guess. 

-0.  M. 

The  evening  of  Lady  Vincent's  reception  arrived.  At  an  un- 
fashionably  early  hour  Judge  Merlin's  country  house  was 
filled. 


LA.DY  VIKCENT'S  RECEPTION.  83 

All  the  county  families  of  any  importance  were  represented 
there.  The  rustic  guests,  drawn,  no  doubt,  not  more  by  their 
regard  for  Judge  Merlin  and  his  daughter  than  by  their 
curiosity  to  behold  a  titled  foreigner. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Middleton  and  Beatrice  came  very  early,  en 
cumbered  with  several  bandboxes;  for  their  long  ride  made  it 
necessary  for  them  to  defer  their  evening  toilet  until  after 
their  arrival. 

They  were  received  and  conducted  to  their  rooms  by  old 
Aunt  Katie.  "  Lady  Vincent,"  she  said,  "  has  not  yet  left  her 
dressing  room." 

When  their  toilets  were  made,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Middleton  came 
to  Bee's  door  to  take  her  down  to  the  drawing  room. 

Very  beautiful  indeed  looked  Bee,  in  her  floating,  cloud-like 
dress  of  snow-white  tulle,  with  white  moss-roses  resting  on 
ner  rounded  bosom  and  wreathing  her  golden  ringlets;  and 
all  her  beauty  irradiated  with  the  light  of  a  happy  love. 

Her  father  smiled  proudly  and  her  mother  fondly  on  her  as 
she  came  out  and  joined  them. 

The  found  the  drawing  rooms  already  well  filled  with  guests. 

Lord  and  Lady  Vincent  stood  near  the  door  to  receive  all 
comers.  To  them  the  Middletons  first  went. 

Very  handsome  and  majestic  looked  Claudia  in  her  rich 
robe  of  royal  purple  velvet,  with  her  raven  black  hair  crowned 
•with  a  diadem  of  diamonds,  and  diamonds  blazing  on  her  neck 
and  arms  and  at  her  waist.  Strangers  looked  upon  her  loveli 
ness  with  unqualified  delight.  Her  "  beauty  made  them  glad." 
Put  friends  who  saw  the  glittering  surface  and  the  alloy  be 
neath  it,  admired  and  sighed.  Her  dark  eyes  were  beaming 
with  light;  her  oval  cheeks  were  burning  with  crimson  fire. 
Mrs.  Middleton  thought  this  was  fever;  but  Bee  knew  it  was 
French  rouge. 

Claudia  received  her  friends  with  bright  smiles  and  gay 
words.  She  complimented  them  on  their  good  looks  and  rallied 
them  on  their  gravity.  And  then  she  let  them  lightly  pass 
away  to  make  room  for  new  arrivals,  who  were  approaching  to 
p.n.v  their  respects. 

They  passed  through  the  crowd  until  they  found  Judge  Mer 
lin,  to  whose  care  Mr.  Middleton  consigned  Bee,  while  he  him 
self,  with  his  wife  on  his  arm,  made  a  tour  of  all  the  rooms, 
including  the  supper  room. 

TV'  party,  they  saw,  was  going  to  be  a  successful  one,  not" 


84  SELF-RAISED;  OB,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

withstanding  the  fact  that  the  three  great  metropolitan  minis* 
ters  of  fashion  had  nothing  whatever  to  do  with  it. 

Sam  and  Jim,  with  perfect  liberty  to  do  their  worst  in  the 
matters  of  garden  flowers  and  wax  lights,  had  decorated  and 
illuminated  the  rooms  with  the  rich  profusion  for  which  the 
negro  servants  are  notorious.  The  guests  might  have  been  in 
fairy  groves  and  bowers,  instead  of  drawing  rooms,  for  any 
glimpse  of  walls  or  ceilings  they  could  get  through  green  boughs 
and  blooming  flowers. 

In  the  supper  room  old  Aunt  Katie  with  he::  attendant 
nymphs  had  laid  a  feast  that  might  vie  in  "  toothsomeness  "  if 
not  in  elegance  with  the  best  ever  elaborated  by  the  celebrated 
caterer. 

And  in  the  dancing  room  the  local  band  of  negro  musicians 
drew  from  their  big  fiddle,  little  fiddle,  banjo,  and  bones  notes 
as  ear-piercing  and  limb-lifting,  if  not  as  scientific  and  artistic, 
as  anything  ever  executed  by  Dureezie's  renowned  troupe. 

The  Englishman,  secretly  cynical,  sneered  at  all  thia;  but 
openly  courteous,  made  himself  agreeable  to  all  the  prettiest 
of  the  country  belles,  who  ever  after  had  the  proud  boast  of 
having  quadrilled  or  waltzed  with  Lord  Vincent. 

The  party  did  not  break  up  until  morning.  The  reason  of 
this  was  obvious — the  company  could  not  venture  to  return 
home  in  their  carriages  over  those  dangerous  country  roads 
until  daylight. 

It  was,  in  fact,  sunrise  before  the  last  guests  departed  and 
the  weary  family  were  at  liberty  to  go  to  bed  and  sleep.  They 
had  turned  the  night  into  day,  and  now  it  was  absolutely  neces 
sary  to  turn  the  day  into  night. 

They  did  not  any  of  them  awake  until  three  or  four  o'clock 
in  the  afternoon,  when  they  took  coffee  in  their  chambers.  And 
they  did  not  reassemble  until  the  late  dinner  hour  at  six  o'clock, 
by  which  time  the  servants  had  removed  the  litter  of  the  party 
and  restored  the  rooms  to  neatness,  order,  and  comfort. 

The  Middletons  had  not  departed  with  the  other  guests. 
They  joined  the  family  at  dinner.  And  after  dinner,  at  the 
pressing  invitation  of  Judge  Merlin,  they  agreed  to  remain  at 
Tanglewood  for  the  few  days  that  would  intervene  before  the 
departure  of  Lord  and  Lady  Vincent  for  Europe.  Only  Bee, 
the  next  morning,  drove  over  to  the  Beacon  to  give  the  servants 
there  strict  charges  in  regard  to  the  girls  and  boys,  and  to 
bring  little  Lu  back  with  her  to  Tanglewood. 


'AND  ALL  HER  BEAUTY  IRRADIATED  WITH  THE  LIGHT  OF 
A  HAPPY  LOVE." 

—Page  83. 


LADY  VINCENT'S  RECEPTION.  85 

The  next  week  was  passed  in  making  the  final  preparations 
for  the  voyage. 

And  when  all  was  ready  on  a  bright  Monday  morning,  the 
first  of  October,  Lord  and  Lady  Vincent,  with  their  servants 
and  baggage,  departed  from  Tanglewood. 

Judge  Merlin,  leaving  his  house  to  be  shut  up  by  the  Middle- 
tons,  accompanied  them  to  see  them  off  in  the  steamer. 

It  was  quite  an  imposing  procession  that  left  Tanglewood 
that  morning.  There  were  two  carriages  and  a  van.  In  the  first 
carriage  rode  Lord  and  Lady  Vincent  and  Judge  Merlin.  In 
the  second  my  lord's  valet  and  my  lady's  three  servants.  And 
in  the  van  was  piled  an  inconceivable  amount  of  luggage. 

This  procession  made  a  sensation,  I  assure  you,  as  it  lumbered 
along  the  rough  country  roads.  Every  little  isolated  cabin 
along  the  way  turned  out  its  ragged  rout  of  girls  and  boys 
who  threw  up  their  arms  with  a  prolonged  "  Hooray ! "  as  it 
passed — to  the  great  disgust  of  the  Englishman  and  the  tran 
sient  amusement  of  the  judge.  As  for  Claudia,  she  sat  back 
with  her  eyes  closed  and  cared  for  nothing. 

The  negroes  came  in  for  their  share  of  notice. 

"Hooray,  Aunt  Katie,  is  that  you  a-ridin'  in  a  coach  as 
bold  as  brass  ? "  some  wayside  laborer  would  shout. 

"  As  bold  as  brass  yourself ! "  would  be  the  irate  retort  of  the 
old  woman,  nodding  her  head  that  was  adorned  with  a  red  and 
yellow  bonnet,  from  the  window. 

"  Hillo,  Jim !  that's  never  you,  going  to  f  orring  parts  as  large 
as  life  ?  "  would  sing  out  another. 

"  Yes !  Good-by !  God  bless  you  all  as  is  left  behind !  " 
would  be  Jim's  compassionate  reply. 

"  Lord  bless  my  soul  and  body,  what  a  barbarous  country ! " 
would  be  Lord  Vincent's  muttered  comment.  And  the  judgo 
would  smile  and  Claudia  slumber,  or  seem  to  do  so. 

And  this  happened  over  and  over  again  all  along  the  turn 
pike  road,  until  they  got  to  Shelton,  where  they  embarked 
on  the  steamer  "  Arrow "  for  Baltimore,  where  they  arrived 
the  next  day  at  noon. 

They  made  no  stay  in  the  Monumental  City.  Old  Katie's 
dilated  eyes  had  not  time  to  relieve  themselves  by  one  wink 
over  the  wonders  of  the  new  world  into  which  she  was  intro 
duced,  before,  to  her  "  surprise  and  'stonishment,"  as  she  af 
terwards  expressed  it,  she  found  herself  "  on  board  the  cars, 
being1  whisked  off  somewhere  else.  And  if  you  would  believe 


86  SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

her  racket,  she  had  to  hold  the  h'ar  on  her  head  to  keep  it  from 
being  streamed  off  in  the  flight.  And  she  was  no  sooner  set 
down  comfortable  in  the  cars  at  Baltimore  than  she  had  to 
get  up  and  get  outen  them  at  New  York.  And  you  better  had 
Relieve  it,  chillun,  that's  all." 

Old  Aunt  Katie  mu^t  have  slept  all  the  way  through  that 
night's  journey;  for  it  is  certain  that  the  cars  in  which  she 
traveled  left  Baltimore  at  eight  o'clock  in  the  evening  and  ar 
rived  at  New  York  at  six  o'clock  the  next  morning. 

After  their  dusty,  smoky,  cindery  ride  of  ten  hours  our  party 
had  barely  time  to  find  their  hotel,  cleanse  and  refresh  them 
selves  with  warm  baths  and  changes  of  raiment  and  get  their 
breakfasts  comfortably,  before  the  hour  of  embarkation  arrived. 
For  they  were  required  to  be  on  board  their  steamer  at  ten 
o'clock,  as  she  was  announced  to  sail  at  twelve,  meridian. 

At  ten,  therefore,  the  carriages  that  had  been  ordered  for  the 
purpose  of  conveying  them  to  the  pier  were  announced. 

Lower  and  lower  sank  the  heart  of  the  widowed  father  as 
the  moment  approached  that  was  to  separate  him  from  his 
only  child.  There  were  times  when  he  so  dreaded  that  moment 
as  to  wish  for  death  instead.  There  were  times  when  he  felt 
that  the  wrench  which  should  finally  tear  his  daughter  from 
him  must  certainly  prove  his  death-blow.  Yet,  for  her  sake, 
he  bore  himself  with  composure  and  dignity.  He  would  not  let 
her  see  the  anguish  that  was  oppressing  his  heart. 

He  entered  the  carriage  with  her  and  drove  to  the  pier.  He 
drew  her  arm  within  his  own,  keeping  her  hand  pressed  against 
his  aching  heart,  and  so  he  led  her  up  the  gar.g-plank  on  board 
the  steamer,  Lord  Vincent  and  their  retinue  following.  He 
would  not  trust  himself  to  utter  any  serious  Tvcrds;  but  he  led 
her  to  find  her  stateroom,  that  he  might  see  for  himself  she 
would  be  comfortable  on  her  voyage,  and  that  he  might  carry 
away  with  him  a  picture  of  her  and  her  surroundings  in  his 
memory.  And  then  he  brought  her  up  on  deck  and  found  a 
pleasant  seat  for  her,  and  sat  down  beside  her,  keeping  her  arm 
within  his  and  her  hand  pressed  as  a  balm  to  his  covered  bleed 
ing  heart. 

There  he  sat,  speaking  but  little,  while  active  preparations 
•were  made  for  sailing.  It  looked  to  him  like  preparations  for 
an  execution. 

Lord  Vincent  walked  up  and  down  the  deck,  occasionally 
stopping  to  exchange  a  word  with  Claudia,  or  the  judge. 


IADY  VINCENT'S  KECEPTIOK.  87 

At  length  the  signal-bell  rang  out,  every  peal  striking  lika 
a  death-toll  on  the  heart  of  the  old  man. 

And  the  order  was  shouted  forth: 

"All  hands  ashore!" 

The  moment  of  life  and  death  had  come.  He  started  up; 
he  strained  his  daughter  to  his  breast.  He  gasped : 

"  God  bless  you,  my  dear !    Write  as  soon  as  you  land !  " 

He  wrung  the  hand  of  Lord  Vincent.  "  Be  good  to " 

He  choked,  and  hurried  from  the  steamer. 

He  stood  alone  on  the  pier  gazing  at  the  receding  ship,  and 
at  his  daughter,  who  was  leaning  over  the  bulwarks,  waving 
her  handkerchief.  Swiftly,  swiftly,  receded  the  ship  from  his 
strained  sight.  First  his  daughter's  face  faded  from  his  aching 
vision ;  but  still  he  could  see  the  outline  of  her  form.  A  minute 
or  two  and  even  that  grew  indistinct  and  was  lost  among  the 
rigging.  And  while  he  was  still  straining  his  eyes  to  the 
cracking,  in  the  effort  to  see  her,  the  signal  gun  from  the  steamer 
was  fired.  The  farewell  gun !  The  ball  seemed  to  strike  his 
own  heart.  All  his  strength  forsook  him;  his  well-strung 
nerves  suddenly  relaxed ;  his  limbs  gave  way  beneath  him,  and 
he  must  have  fallen  but  for  the  strong  arms  that  suddenly 
clasped  him  and  the  warm  bosom  that  firmly  supported  him. 

Turning  up  his  languid,  fainting  eyes,  he  saw — 

"Ishmael!" 

Yes,  it  was  Ishmael,  who  with  a  son's  devotion  was  standing 
there  and  sustaining  Claudia's  forsaken  father  in  the  hour  of 
his  utter  weakness  and  utmost  need. 

At  first  the  judge  looked  at  him  in  surprise  and  incredulity, 
which  soon,  however,  gave  way  before  recognition  and  affection, 
as  he  rested  on  that  true  breast  and  met  those  beautiful  eyes 
bent  on  him  in  deepest  sympathy. 

"Oh,  Ishmael,  Ishmael,  is  it  you?  is  it  indeed  you?  You 
here  at  need  ?  Oh,  my  son,  my  son,  would  to  the  Lord  that  you 
were  indeed  my  son !  It  is  a  grief  and  folly  that  you  are  not !  " 
he  exclaimed  with  emotion. 

What  could  Ishmael  reply  to  these  words?  Nothing.  He 
could  only  tenderly  support  the  old  man  and  turn  to  a  gray- 
haired  servant  that  waited  behind  him  and  say: 

"  Professor,  go  call  a  carriage  here  quickly ! " 

And  Jim  Morris  started  on  his  errand,  with  all  the  crippled 
alacrity  of  age  and  zeal. 

*  Oh.  Ishmael,  she  has  gone !  she  has  gone !    My  daughter  ha« 


88          SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

left  me ! "  he  groaned,  grasping  the  hand  of  his  young  sup 
porter. 

"  I  know  it,  sir,  I  know  it.  But  this  hour  of  parting  is  the 
bitterest  of  all.  The  heart  feels  the  wrench  of  separation, 
keenly  now." 

"  Oh,  yes,  yes ! " 

"But  every  coming  hour  will  bring  relief.  You  will  cease 
to  look  back  to  the  bitter  parting,  and  you  will  look  forward 
to  the  happy  meeting.  And  that  meeting  may  be  as  soon  as 
you  please,  sir,  you  know.  There  is  nothing  on  earth  to  prevent 
or  even  delay  your  visit  to  Lady  Vincent  as  soon  after  she  gets 
settled  at  home,  as  you  like.  This  is  October.  You  may  spend 
Christmas  with  her,  you  know." 

"  That  is  true ;  that  is  very  true,  and  Christmas  is  not  so 
very  far  off.  Ah !  I  ought  not  to  have  given  way  so,  and  I  should 
not  have  done  it,  only  I  was  quite  alone  when  they  sailed. 
There  was  no  one  with  me  to  suggest  these  comforting  thoughts, 
and  I  was  too  much  prostrated  by  the  wrench  of  parting  to 
remember  them  of  myself.  Oh,  Ishmael !  what  Providence  was 
it  that  sent  you  to  my  side  in  this  extremity  ? "  inquired  the 
judge,  curiosity  mingling  with  his  interest  in  the  question. 

"  I  came  here,"  said  Ishmael  frankly,  "  with  no  other  purpose 
than  to  be  with  you  in  your  hour  of  trial.  I  knew  that  you 
would  require  the  presence  of  some  friend." 

"  Ah,  Ishmael !  it  was  just  like  you  to  drop  all  your  business 
and  come  uncalled,  traveling  from  Washington  to  New  York, 
with  the  sole  object  of  sustaining  an  old  friend  in  the  hour  of 
his  weakness.  So  that  does  not  surprise  me.  But  how  did 
you  hit  the  time  so  well  ? " 

"  I  knew  from  Bee's  last  letter,  dated  from  Tanglewood,  the 
day  that  Lord  Vincent  had  positively  determined  to  sail.  I 
knew  also  the  name  of  the  only  steamer  that  sailed  for  Europe 
on  that  day.  And  so,  as  Bee  expressed  great  regret  that  her 
father  could  not  accompany  you  to  New  York,  and  great 
anxiety  because  you  would  be  left  quite  alone  after  the  trial 
of  parting  with  Claudia,  I  suddenly  resolved  to  come  on.  I 
came  on  by  the  same  train  that  brought  your  party,  although 
not  in  the  same  car.  I  reached  the  city  this  morning,  and 
finding  that  the  steamer  was  to  sail  at  twelve,  noon,  I  walked 
down  to  the  pier  at  half-past  eleven  so  as  to  be  ready  to  meet 
you  when  you  should  come  ashore." 

"And  you  took  all  this  thought  and  trouble  for  me?     Oh, 


LADY  VINCENT'S  DECEPTION.  89 

Ishmael,  Ishmael,  what  a  sorrow  and  shame  it  is  that  you  are 
not  my  son  1 " 

"I  am  your  son  in  reverence,  and  love,  and  service,  sir; 
and  if  I  am  not  in  any  other  way  it  is  because  the  Lord  has 
willed  otherwise,"  said  Ishmael  very  gravely. 

"  Did  you  see  Claudia  off  ?  "  inquired  the  judge. 

"I  saw  the  steamer;  I  did  not  see  Lady  Vincent.  I  was  in 
the  rear  of  the  crowd  on  the  pier  and  looking  out  among  them 
that  I  might  not  miss  you,"  replied  Tshmael.  But  he  did  not 
add  that  he  had  sedulously  avoided  looking  at  Claudia  as  she 
stood  beside  her  husband  on  the  deck  waving  her  handkerchief 
in  adieus  to  her  father. 

In  a  few  minutes  Jim  Morris  came  up  with  a  comfortable 
carriage,  and  the  judge,  somewhat  recovered  now,  was  assisted 
into  it. 

"  You  are  coming  too,  Ishmael,  are  you  not  ? "  said  the  old 
man,  looking  anxiously  out  of  the  window. 

"  Of  course  I  am,  sir ;  for  with  your  permission  I  will  not 
leave  you  until  we  get  back  to  Washington,"  replied  the  young 
man,  preparing  to  spring  into  the  carriage.  But  suddenly 
pausing  with  his  hand  on  the  door  he  inquired : 

"  Where  shall  I  order  the  hackman  to  drive  ?  " 

The  judge  named  his  hotel,  which  happened  to  be  the  very 
one  at  which  Ishmael  was  stopping;  and  so  the  young  man 
gave  the  order  and  entered  the  carriage. 

The  professor  climbed  up  to  a  seat  beside  the  hackman, 
and  the  hack  moved  on. 

As  the  carriage  turned  into  Broadway  and  rolled  a  long  that 
magnificent  street,  the  professor,  from  his  elevated  seat,  gazed 
with  ever-increasing  delight  and  admiration  on  the  wonders  of 
the  great  city  spread  before  him. 

There  were  moments  when  honest  Jim  Morris  was  inclined 
to  suspect  that,  some  time  within  the  past  few  weeks,  he  must 
have  died,  been  buried,  and  risen  again  to  some  new  stage  of 
existence;  so  wonderful  to  him  seemed  the  change  in  his  life, 
He  had  not  had  his  satisfaction  with  gazing  when  the  carriage 
stopped  at  the  hotel. 

Ishmael  paid  off  the  hack  and  gave  his  arm  to  the  judge, 
and  assisted  him  into  the  house. 

"  Ishmael,"  he  said,  as  soon  as  they  had  reached  a  sitting 
room,  "have  you  no  other  business  in  New  York  than  to  look 
after  uie?" 


90  SELF-RAISED  J   OR,    FROM   THE   DEPTHS. 

"None  whatever.     I  am  entirely  at  you*  service." 

"  Then  we But  stop.  Are  you  quite  ready  to  return 

to  Washington  at  any  time  ? " 

"  Quite  ready  to  go  at  a  moment's  warning,  if  required." 

u  Then  I  think  we  had  better  take  the  early  train  to-morro\» 
morning,  for  you  ought  not  to  be  absent  from  your  office,  es 
pecially  during  court  term,  and  even  I  shall  be  better  at  home. 
We  shall  need  to-day  and  to-night  for  rest,  but  we  will  start 
to-morrow.  What  do  you  think  ?  " 

"  I  think  that  is  altogether  the  best  plan." 

As  it  was  now  about  one  o'clock  the  judge  ordered  luncheon. 
And  when  they  had  partaken  of  it,  and  the  judge  had  druidc 
several  glasses  of  rich  old  port,  he  said : 

"  Ishmael,  I  did  not  get  a  wink  of  sleep  last  night,  and  this 
wine  has  made  me  drowsy.  I  think  I  will  go  to  my  chamber 
and  lie  down." 

Ishmael  gave  the  judge  his  arm  and  assisted  him  to  his  bed 
room,  and  saw  him  lie  down,  and  waited  until  he  knew  him 
to  be  in  a  deep,  refreshing  sleep;  and  then  he  closed  the  blinds, 
and  darkened  the  room,  and  left  him  to  repose. 

In  the  hall  he  spoke  to  one  of  the  waiters,  and  placing  a 
quarter  of  an  eagle  in  his  hand,  requested  him  to  go  up  and 
remain  near  the  judge's  chamber  door  until  he  should  awake. 

Then  Ishmael  sought  the  professor  out  and  said  to  him: 

"  Professor,  this  is  your  first  visit  to  New  York,  as  it  is  also 
mine.  Let  us  make  use  of  the  little  time  we  have  to  see  a3 
much  as  we  can." 

Jim  Morris  eagerly  jumped  at  the  proposition. 

Ishmael  sent  for  a  carriage,  and  they  started;  the  professor 
this  time  riding  inside  with  Ishmael,  as  he  always  did  when 
they  were  alone. 

They  spent  the  whole  afternoon  in  sight-seeing,  and  returned 
at  sunset. 

The  judge  had  not  awakened,  nor  did  he  awake  until  roused 
by  the  ear-stunning  gong  that  warned  all  the  guests  to  prepare 
for  dinner. 

He  opened  his  eyes  and  stared  around  in  bewilderment  for 
a  few  seconds,  and  then  seeing  Ishmael,  remembered  every 
thing. 

"Ah,  my  boy,  now  it  is  all  come  back  to  me  afresh,  and  I 
have  got  to  meet  it  all  over  again.  T  had  been  dreaming  that 
I  was  at  Tanglewood  with  my  child,  and  she  was  neither  mar- 


LADY  VINCENT'S  RECEPTION.  91 

ried  nor  going  to  be.  Now  I  have  lost  her  anew,"  he  said,  with 
a  deep  sigh. 

"  I  know  it,  sir ;  but  with  every  sleep  and  every  awakening 
this  impression  will  be  fainter  and  fainter.  You  will  soon  be 
cheerful  and  happy  again,  in  the  anticipation  of  going  to  see 
her." 

"Plague  take  that  gong!  how  it  does  belabor  and  thrash 
one's  tympanum!"  said  the  judge  irritably,  as  he  slowly  arose 
to  dress  for  dinner. 

After  dinner  Ishmael  persuaded  him  ^ot  to  stay  in  and 
mope,  but  to  go  with  him  to  hear  a  celebrated  traveler  and 
eloquent  lecturer,  who  was  to  hold  forth  in  one  of  the  churches 
on  the  manners  and  customs  of  the  Laplanders.  The  professor 
also  had  leave  to  go.  And  the  judge  and  Ishmael  were  well 
entertained  and  interested,  and  the  professor  was  instructed 
and  delighted.  Evidently  the  old  odd-job  man,  judging  from 
his  past  and  present  experience,  thought 

"  That  now  the  kingdom  must  be  coming, 
And  the  years  of  jubilo." 

They  returned  to  a  late  supper,  and  then  retired  to  bed. 

Next  morning  they  took  the  early  train  for  Washington, 
where  they  arrived  at  seven  o'clock. 

The  judge  went  home  with  Ishmael  and  remained  his  guest 
for  two  or  three  days,  while  he  wrote  to  Reuben  Gray  to  send 
up  Sam  and  the  carriage  for  him;  and  waited  for  it  to  come. 

Ishmael  at  the  same  time  took  the  responsibility  of  writing 
to  Mr.  Middleton,  advising  him  to  come  up  with  the  carriage 
in  order  to  bear  the  judge  company  in  his  journey  home. 

The  last  day  of  the  week  the  carriage  arrived  with  Mr.  Mid 
dleton  inside  and  Sam  on  the  box.  And  on  Monday  morning 
the  judge,  in  better  spirits  than  anyone  could  have  expected 
him  to  be,  took  an  affectionate  leave  of  Ishmael,  and  with  Mr. 
Middleton  for  company,  set  out  for  Tanglewood,  where  in  due 
time  they  arrived  safely. 

We  also  must  bid  adieu  to  Ishmael  for  a  short  time  and! 
leave  him  to  the  successful  prosecution  of  his  business,  and  to 
the  winning  of  new  laurels.  For  it  is  necessary  to  the  progress 
of  this  story  that  we  follow  the  fortunes  of  Claudia,  Viscountess 
Vincent. 


92  SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

BOMANCK  AND  REALITY. 

If  we  bad  heard  that  she  was  dead 

We  hastily  had  cried, 
"  She  was  so  richly  favored 

God  will  forgive  her  pride!" 
But  now  to  see  her  Jiving  death — 

Power,  glory,  arts,  all  gone — 
Her  empire  lost  and  her  poor  breath 

Still  vainly  struggling  on! 

— Milnes, 

The  "  Ocean  Empress "  steamed  her  way  eastward.  The 
month  was  favorable;  the  weather  bright;  the  wind  fair  and 
the  sea  calm.  Every  circumstance  promised  a  pleasant  voyage. 
None  but  a  few  unreasonable  people  grew  seasick;  and  even 
they  could  not  keep  it  up  long. 

There  was  a  very  select  and  agreeable  set  of  passengers  in  the 
first  cabin. 

But  Lord  and  Lady  Vincent  were  the  oniy  titled  persons 
present;  and  from  both  European  and  American  voyagers  re 
ceived  a  ridiculous  amount  of  homage. 

Claudia  enjoyed  the  worship,  though  she  despised  the  wor 
shipers.  Her  spirits  had  rebounded  from  their  depression.  She 
was  Lady  Vincent,  and  in  the  present  enjoyment  and  future 
anticipation  of  all  the  honors  of  her  rank.  She  gloried  in  the 
adulation  her  youth,  beauty,  wealth,  and  title  commanded  from 
her  companions  on  the  steamer;  but  she  gloried  more  in  the 
anticipation  of  future  successes  and  triumphs  on  a  larger  scale 
and  more  extensive  field. 

She  rehearsed  in  imagination  her  arrival  in  London,  her  in 
troduction  to  the  family  of  the  viscount;  her  presentation  to 
the  queen;  and  the  sensation  she  would  produce  at  her  ma 
jesty's  drawing  room,  where  she  was  resolved,  even  if  it  should 
cost  her  her  whole  fortune,  to  eclipse  every  woman  present,  not 
only  in  the  perfection  of  her  beauty,  but  also  in  the  magnifi 
cence  of  her  dresses  and  the  splendor  of  her  jewels.  And  after 
that  what  a  season  she  would  pass  in  London!  Whoever  was 
queen  of  England,  she  would  be  queen  of  beauty  and  fashion. 

And  then  she  would  visit  with  Lord  Vincent  all  the  different 
seats  of  his  family;  and  every  seat  would  be  the  scene  of  a 


ROMANCE   AND    REALITY.  93 

new  ovation!  As  the  bride  of  the  heir  she  would  be  idolized 
by  the  tenants  and  retainers  of  his  noble  family! 

She  would,  with  Lord  Vincent,  make  a  tour  of  the  Continent; 
she  would  see  everything  worth  seeing  in  nature  and  in  art, 
modern  and  antique;  she  would  be  presented  in  succession  at 
every  foreign  court,  and  everywhere  by  her  beauty  and  splendor 
achieve  new  successes  and  triumphs !  She  would  frequent  the 
circles  of  American  ministers,  for  the  express  purpose  of  meet 
ing  there  her  countrywomen,  and  overwhelming  by  her  magnifi 
cence  those  who  had  once  dared  to  sneer  at  that  high  flavor  of 
Indian  blood  which  had  given  luster  to  her  raven  hair  and  fire 
to  her  dark  eyes !  Returning  to  England  after  this  royal  prog 
ress  on  the  Continent  she  would  pass  her  days  in  cherishing 
her  beauty  and  keeping  up  her  state. 

And  the  course  of  her  life  should  be  like  that  of  the  sun, 
beautiful,  glorious,  regnant!  each  splendid  phase  more  dazzling 
than  any  that  had  preceded  it.  Was  not  this  worth  the  price 
she  paid  for  it? 

Such  were  Claudia's  dreams  and  visions.  Such  the  scenes 
that  she  daily  in  imagination  rehearsed.  Such  the  future  life 
she  delighted  to  contemplate.  And  nothing — neither  the  at 
tentions  of  her  husband,  the  conversation  of  her  companions, 
nor  the  beauty  and  glory  of  sea  and  sky — could  win  her  from  the 
contemplation  of  the  delightful  subject. 

Meanwhile  in  that  lovely  October  weather  the  "  Empress " 
steamed  her  way  over  the  sapphire  blue  sea  and  neared  the  cliffs 
of  England. 

At  length  on  a  fine  afternoon  in  October  they  entered  the 
mouth  of  the  Mersey  River,  and  two  hours  later  landed  at 
Liverpool. 

Soon  all  was  bustle  with  the  custom  house  officers. 

Leaving  their  luggage  in  charge  of  his  valet,  to  be  got 
through  the  custom  house,  Lord  Vincent  hurried  Claudia  into 
a  cab,  followed  her,  and  gave  the  direction: 

"  To  the  Crown  and  Miter." 

"  Why  not  go  to  the  Adelphi  ?  All  Americans  go  there,  and 
I  think  it  the  best  hotel  in  the  city,"  said  Claudia. 

"  The  Crown  and  Miter  will  serve  our  turn,"  was  the  curt 
reply  of  the  viscount. 

Claudia  looked  up  in  surprise  at  the  brusqueness  of  his  an- 
swer,  and  then  ventured  the  opinion: 

"It  is  a  first-class  hotel,,  of  course?" 


94          SELF-EAISED;  on,  FEOM  THE  DEPTHS. 

"Humph!  "  answered  his  lordship. 

They  left  the  respectable-looking  street  through  which  they 
•were  driving  and  turned  into  a  narrow  by-street  and  drove 
through  a  perfect  labyrinth  of  narrow  lanes  and  alleys,  made 
hideous  by  dilapidated  and  dirty  buildings  and  ragged  and 
filthy  people,  until  at  last  they  reached  a  dark,  dingy-looking 
inn,  whose  creaking  sign  bore  in  faded  letters :  "  The  Crown 
and  Miter." 

"  It  is  not  here  that  you  are  taking  me,  Lord  Vincent  ? " 
exclaimed  Claudia  in  surprise  and  displeasure,  as  her  eyes 
fell  upon  this  house  and  sign. 

"  It  certainly  is,  Lady  Vincent,"  replied  his  lordship,  with 
cool  civility,  as  he  handed  her  out  of  the  cab. 

"  Why  this — this  is  worse  than  the  tavern  you  took  me  to  in 
New  York.  I  never  was  in  such  a  house  before  in  all  my  life." 

"  It  will  have  all  the  attractions  of  novelty,  then." 

"Lord  Vincent,  I  do  beg  that  you  will  not  take  me  into 
this  squalid  place,"  she  said  shrinking  back. 

"  You  might  find  less  attractive  places  than  this  in  the 
length  and  breadth  of  the  island,"  he  replied,  as  he  drew  her 
hand  within  his  arm  and  led  her  into  the  house. 

They  found  themselves  in  a  narrow  passage,  with  stained 
•walls,  worn  oil-cloth,  and  a  smell  of  meat,  onions,  and  smoke. 

"  Oh !  "  exclaimed  Claudia,  in  irrepressible  disgust. 

"You  will  get  used  to  these  little  inconveniences  after  a 
•while,  my  dear,"  said  his  lordship. 

A  man  with  a  greasy  white  apron  and  a  soiled  napkin  ap 
proached  them  and  bowed. 

"  A  bedroom  and  parlor,  and  supper  immediately,"  was  Lord 
Vincent's  order  to  this  functionary. 

"Yes,  sir.  We  can  be  happy  to  accommodate  you,  sir,  with 
a  bedroom ;  the  parlor,  sir,  is  out  of  our  power ;  we  having  none 

vacant  at  the  present  time;  but  to-morrow,  sir "  began  the 

polite  waiter,  when  Lord  Vincent  cut  him  short  with : 

"  Show  us  into  the  bedroom,  then." 

"  Yes,  sir."  And  bowing,  the  waiter  went  before  them  up 
the  narrow  stairs  and  led  them  into  a  dusky,  fady,  gloomy- 
looking  chamber,  whose  carpet,  curtains,  and  chair  coverings 
seemed  all  of  mingled  hues  of  browns  and  grays,  and  from  their 
fadiness  and  dinginess  almost  indescribable  in  color. 

The  waiter  set  the  candle  on  the  tall  wooden  mantelpiece 
and  inquired: 


ROMANCE   AND    EEALITY.  96 

ft  What  vould  you  please  to  order  for  supper  ? " 

*  What  will  you  have,  madam  ? "  inquired  Lord  Vincent,  re 
ferring  to  Claudia. 

"Nothing  on  earth,  in  this  horrid  place!  I  am  heart-sick," 
she  added,  in  a  low,  sad  tone. 

"  The  lady  will  take  nothing.  You  may  send  me  a  beefsteak 
and  a  bottle  of  B&ss'  pale  ale,"  said  his  lordship,  seemingly 
perfectly  careless  as  to  Claudia's  want  of  appetite. 

"Yes,  sir;  shall  I  order  it  served  in  the  coffee  room?" 

"No,  send  it  up  here,  and  don't  be  long  over  it." 

The  waiter  left  the  room.  And  Lord  Vincent  walked  up  and 
down  the  floor  in  the  most  perfect  state  of  indifference  to 
Claudia's  distress. 

She  threw  herself  into  a  chair  and  burst  into  tears,  ex 
claiming  : 

"You  do  not  care  for  me  at  all!  What  a  disgusting  place 
to  bring  a  woman — not  to  say  a  lady — into!  If  you  possessed 
the  least  respect  or  affection  for  me  you  would  never  treat  me 
so!" 

"  I  fancy  that  I  possess  quite  as  much  respect  and  affection 
for  you,  Lady  Vincent,  as  you  do,  or  ever  did  for  roe,"  he  an 
swered. 

And  Claudia  knew  that  he  spoke  the  truth,  and  she  could 
not  contradict  him;  but  she  said: 

"  Suppose  there  is  little  love  lost  between  us,  still  we  might 
treat  each  other  decently.  It  is  infamous  to  bring  me  here." 

"  You  will  not  be  required  to  stay  here  long." 

"  I  hope  not,  indeed !  " 

At  this  moment  the  waiter  entered  to  lay  the  cloth  for  the 
viscount's  supper. 

"  What  time  does  the  first  train  for  Aberdeen  leave  ? "  in 
quired  the  viscount. 

"  The  first  train,  sir,  leaves  at  four  o'clock  in  the  morning, 
sir;  an  uncomfortable  hour,  sir;  and  it  is  besides  the  parlia 
mentary,  sir." 

"  That  will  do.  See  if  my  people  have  come  up  from  the  cus 
tom  house." 

"  Yes,  sir ;  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir,  what  name  ? "  inquired  the 
perplexed  waiter. 

"  No  matter.  Go  look  for  a  fellow  who  has  in  charge  a  large 
number  of  boxes  and  a  party  of  male  and  female  gorillas." 

The  man  left  the  room  to  do  his  errand  and  to  report  below 


96  SELF-KAISED  ;   OR,    FROM   THE   DEPTflS. 

that  the  person  in  "  Number  13  "  was  a  showman  with  a  lot  of 
man-monkeys  from  the  interior  of  Africa. 

But  Claudia  turned  to  her  husband  in  astonishment. 

"Did  I  understand  you  to  inquire  about  the  train  to  Aber 
deen?" 

"Yes,"  was  the  short  reply. 

"But — I  thought  we  were  going  to  London — to  Hurstmon- 

ceux  House " 

,    "  Belgravia  ?    No,  my  dear,  we  are  going  to  Scotland." 

I    "But — why  this  change  of  plan?     My  father  and  myself 

certainly  understood  that  I  was  to  be  taken  to  London  and 

introduced  to  your  family  and  afterwards   presented  to  her 

majesty." 

"  My  dear,  the  London  season  is  over  ages  ago.  Nobody  that 
Is  anybody  will  be  found  in  town  until  February.  The  court  is 
at  Balmoral,  and  the  world  is  in  Scotland.  We  go  to  Castle 
Cragg." 

"  But  why  could  you  not  have  told  me  that  before  ? " 

"My  dear,  I  like  to  be  agreeable.  And  people  who  are  al 
ways  setting  others  right  are  not  so." 

"  Is  Lord  Hurstmonceux  at  Castle  Cragg  ? " 

"The  earl  is  at  Balmoral,  in  attendance  upon  her  majesty." 

"  Then  why  do  we  not  go  to  Balmoral  ? " 

"  The  queen  holds  no  drawing  rooms  there." 

Claudia  suspected  that  he  was  deceiving  her;  but  she  felt 
that  it  would  do  no  good  to  accuse  him  of  deception. 

The  waiter  returned  to  the  room,  bringing  Lord  Vincent* 
substantial  supper,  arranged  on  a  tray. 

"  I  have  inquired  below,  sir ;  and  there  is  no  one  arrived  hav 
ing  in  charge  your  gorillas.  But  there  is  a  person  with  a 
panorama,  sir;  and  there  is  a  person  with  three  negro  persons, 
sir,"  said  the  waiter. 

"He  will  do.  Send  up  the  'person  with  three  negro  per- 
,Bons,'"  said  the  viscount. 

And  once  more  the  waiter  left  the  room. 

In  a  few  moments  Lord  Vincent's  valet  entered. 

"Frisbie,  we  leave  for  Scotland  by  the  four  o'clock  train, 
to-morrow  morning.  See  to  it." 

"  Yea,  my  lord.  I  beg  your  lordship's  pardon,  but  is  your 
lordship  aware  that  it  is  the  parliamentary  ? " 

"  Certainly ;  but  it  is  also  the  first.  See  to  it  that  your  gorillas 
are  ready-  And — Frisbie." 


BOMANCE   AND    REALITY.  97 

"Yes,  my  lord." 

"  Go  and  engage  a  first-class  carriage  for  our  own  exclusive 
use." 

"Yes,  my  lord,"  said  the  man,  with  his  hand  still  on  the 
door,  as  if  waiting  further  orders. 

"Lord  Vincent,  I  would  be  obliged  if  you  would  tell  him  to 
send  one  of  my  women  to  me,"  said  Claudia  coldly. 

"Women?  Oh!  Here,  Frisbie!  send  the  female  gorillas 
up." 

"I  said  one  of  my  women,  the  elder  one,  he  may  send." 

"  Frisbie,  send  the  old  female  gorilla  up,  then." 

The  man  went  out  of  the  room.  And  Claudia  turned  upon 
her  husband: 

"Lord  Vincent,  I  do  not  know  in  what  light  you  consider 
it ;  but  I  think  your  conduct  shows  bad  wit  and  worse  manners." 

"  Lady  Vincent,  I  am  sorry  you  should  disapprove  of  it," 
said  his  lordship,  falling  to  upon  his  beefsteak  and  ale,  the 
fumes  of  which  soon  filled  the  room. 

But  that  was  nothing  to  what  was  coming.  When  he  had 
finished  his  supper  he  coolly  took  a  pipe  from  his  pocket, 
filled  it  with  "  negro-head,"  and  prepared  to  light  it.  Then 
stopping  in  the  midst  of  his  operations,  he  looked  at  Claudia 
and  inquired: 

"Do  you  dislike  tobacco  smoke?" 

"  I  do  not  know,  my  lord.  No  gentleman  ever  smoked  in 
my  presence,"  replied  Claudia  haughtily. 

"  Oh,  then,  of  course,  you  don't  know,  and  never  will  until 
you  try.  There  is  nothing  like  experiment." 

And  Lord  Vincent  put  the  pipe  between  his  lips  and  puffed 
away  vigorously.  The  room  was  soon  filled  with  smoke.  That, 
combined  with  the  smell  of  the  beefsteak  and  the  ale,  really 
sickened  Claudia.  She  went  to  the  window,  raised  it  and 
looked  out. 

"  You  will  take  cold,"  said  his  lordship. 

"I  would  rather  take  cold  than  breathe  this  air,"  was  her 
reply. 

"  Just  as  you  please ;  but  I  hadn't,"  he  said.  And  he  went 
and  shut  down  the  window. 

Amazement  held  Claudia  still  for  a  moment;  she  could 
scarcely  believe  in  such  utter  disregard  of  her  feelings.  At 
last,  in  a  voice  vibrating  with  ill-suppreesed  indignation,  she 
said: 


98          SELF-RAISED;  OK,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

"My  lord,  the  air  of  this  room  makes  me  ill.  If  you  must 
smoke,  can  you  not  do  so  somewhere  else  ?  " 

"  Where  ? "  questioned  his  lordship,  taking  the  pipe  from  his 
mouth  for  an  instant. 

"Is  there  not  a  smoking  room,  reading  room,  or  something 
of  the  sort,  for  gentlemen's  accommodation  ? " 

"  In  this  place  ?    Ha,  ha,  ha !    Well,  there  is  the  taproom !  " 

"  Then  why  not  go  there  ? "  inquired  Claudia,  who  had  no 
very  clear  idea  of  what  the  taproom  really  was. 

Lord  Vincent's  face  flushed  at  what  he  seemed  to  think  an 
intentional  affront. 

"I  can  go  into  the  street,"  he  said. 

And  he  arose  and  put  on  his  greatcoat  and  his  cap,  and 
turned  up  the  collar  of  his  coat  and  turned  down  the  fall  of 
his  cap,  so  that  but  little  of  his  face  would  be  seen,  and  so 
walked  out.  Then  Claudia  raised  the  window  to  ventilate  the 
room,  and  rang  the  bell  to  summon  the  waiter. 

"  Take  this  service  away  and  send  the  chambermaid  to  me," 
she  said  to  him  when  he  came. 

And  a  few  minutes  after  he  had  cleared  the  table  and  left 
the  room  the  chambermaid,  accompanied  by  old  Katie,  entered. 

"Is  there  a  dressing  room  connected  with  this  chamber?  ' 
Lady  Vincent  inquired. 

"Law,  no,  mum!  there  isn't  sich  a  place  in  the  house,"  said 
the  chambermaid. 

"  This  is  intolerable !  You  may  go ;  my  own  servants  will 
wait  on  me." 

The  girl  went  out. 

"Unpack  my  traveling  bag  and  lay  out  my  things,  Katie," 
said  Lady  Vincent,  when  she  was  left  alone  with  her  nurse. 

But  the  old  woman  raised  her  hands,  and  rolled  up  her  eyes, 
exclaiming : 

"Well,  Miss  Claudia,  child! — I  mean  my  ladyship,  ma'am! 
— if  this  is  Ingland,  I  never  want  to  see  it  again  the  longest 
day  as  ever  I  live !  " 

"  Liverpool  is  not  England,  Katie." 

"  Live-a-pool,  is  it  ?  More  like  Die-a-pool !  "  grumbled  old 
Katie,  as  she  assisted  her  lady  to  change  her  traveling  dress 
for  a  loose  wrapper. 

"  Now,  what  have  you  had  to  eat,  my  ladyship  ?  " 

"Nothing,  Katie.  I  felt  as  if  I  could  not  eat  anything 
cooked  in  this  ill-looking  house." 


ROMANCE    AND    REALITY.  99 

"  Nothing  to  cat !  I'll  go  right  straight  downstairs  and  make 
you  some  tea  and  toast  myself,"  said  Katie. 

And  she  made  good  her  words  by  bringing  a  delicate  little 
repast,  of  which  Claudia  gratefully  partook. 

And  then  Katie,  with  an  old  nurse's  tenderness,  saw  her  mis 
tress  comfortably  to  bed,  and  cleared  and  darkened  the  room 
and  left  her  to  repose. 

But  Claudia  did  not  sleep.  Her  thoughts  were  too  busy 
with  the  subject  of  Lord  Vincent's  strange  conduct  from  the 
time  that  he  had  at  Niagara  received  those  three  suspicious 
letters  up  to  this  time,  when  with  his  face  hid  he  was  walking 
up  and  down  the  streets  of  Liverpool. 

That  he  sought  concealment  she  felt  assured  by  many  cir 
cumstances:  his  coming  to  this  obscure  tavern;  his  choosing 
to  take  his  meals  and  smoke  his  pipe  in  his  bedroom;  and  his 
walking  out  with  his  face  muffled — all  of  which  was  in  direct 
antagonism  to  Lord  Vincent's  fastidious  habits;  and,  finally, 
his  taking  a  whole  carriage  in  the  railway  train,  for  no  other 
purpose  than  to  have  himself  and  his  party  entirely  isolated 
from  their  fellow-passengers. 

Lord  Vincent  came  in  early,  and,  thanks  to  the  narcotic 
qualities  of  the  ale,  he  soon  fell  asleep. 

Claudia  had  scarcely  dropped  into  a  doze  before,  at  the  dis 
mal  hour  of  three  o'clock  in  the  morning,  they  were  roused  up 
to  get  ready  for  the  train.  They  made  a  hurried  toilet  and  ate 
a  hasty  breakfast,  and  then  set  out  for  the  station. 

It  was  a  raw,  damp,  foggy  morning.  The  atmosphere  seemed 
as  dense  and  as  white  as  milk.  No  one  could  see  a  foot  in  ad 
vance.  And  Claudia  wondered  how  the  cabmen  managed  to 
get  along  at  all. 

They  reached  the  station  just  as  the  train  was  about  to 
start,  and  had  barely  time  to  hurry  into  the  carriage  that  had 
been  engaged  for  them  before  the  whistle  shrieked  and  they 
were  off.  Fortunately  Frisbie  had  sent  the  luggage  on  in  ad 
vance,  and  got  it  ticketed. 

The  carriage  had  four  back  and  four  front  seats.  Lord  and 
Lady  Vincent  occupied  two  of  the  back  seats,  and  their  four 
servants  the  front  ones.  As  they  went  on  the  fog  really  seemed 
to  thicken.  They  traveled  slowly  and  stopped  often.  And 
Claudia,  in  surprise,  remarked  upon  these  facts. 

"  One  might  as  well  be  in  a  stage — for  speed,"  she  com* 
plained. 


100    SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

"  It  is  the  parliamentary  train,"  he  replied. 

"I  have  heard  you  say  that  before;  but  I  do  not  know  what 
you  mean  by  '  parliamentary '  as  applied  to  railway  trains." 

"  It  is  the  cheap  train,  the  slow  train,  the  people's  train ;  in 
fact,  one  that,  in  addition  to  first-  and  second-class  carriages, 
drags  behind  it  an  interminable  length  of  rough  cars,  in  which 
the  lower  orders  travel,"  said  his  lordship. 

"  But  why  is  it  called  the  '  parliamentary '  ?  " 

"  Because  it  was  instituted  by  act  of  parliament  for  the  ac 
commodation  of  the  people,  or  perhaps  because  it  is  so  heavy 
and  slow." 

On  they  went,  hour  after  hour,  stopping  every  three  or  four 
miles,  while  the  fog  seemed  still  to  condense  and  whiten. 

At  noon  the  train  reached  York,  and  stopped  twenty  minutes 
for  refreshment.  Lord  Vincent  did  not  leave  the  carriage,  but 
sent  his  valet  out  to  the  station  restaurant  to  procure  what  waa 
needful  for  his  party.  And  while  the  passengers  were  all  hur 
rying  to  and  fro,  and  looking  in  at  the  carriage,  he  drew  the 
curtains  of  his  windows,  and  sat  back  far  in  his  seat. 

Claudia  would  gladly  have  left  the  train  and  spent  the  in 
terval  in  contemplating,  even  if  it  were  only  the  outside  of  thg 
ancient  cathedral  of  which  she  had  read  and  heard  so  much. 

Lord  Vincent  assured  her  there  was  no  time  to  lose  in  sight 
seeing  then,  but  promised  that  she  should  visit  York  at  some 
future  period. 

And  the  train  started  again.  They  began  to  leave  the  fog 
behind  them  as  they  approached  the  seacoast.  They  soon  came 
in  sight  of  the  North  Sea,  beside  which  the  railway  ran  for  some 
hundred  miles.  Here  all  was  bright  and  clear.  And  Claudia 
for  a  time  forgot  all  the  suspicions  and  anxieties  that  disturbed 
her  mind,  and  with  all  a  stranger's  interest  gazed  on  the 
grandeur  of  the  scenery  and  dreamed  over  the  associations  it 
awakened. 

Here  "  lofty  Seaton-Delaval "  was  pointed  out  to  her.  And 
Tinemouth,  famed  in  song  for  its  "haughty  prioress,"  and 
"Holy  Isle,"  memorable  for  the  inhumation  of  Constance  de 
Beverly. 

At  sunset  they  crossed  Berwick  bridge  and  entered  Scot 
land. 

Claudia  was  entirely  lost  in  gazing  on  the  present  landscape, 
and  dreaming  of  its  past  history.  Here  the  association  between 
scenery  and  poetry  was  perfect.  Nature  is  ever  young — and 


BOMANCE    AND    KEALITY.  101 

this  was  the  very  scene  and  the  very  hour  described  in  Scott's 
immortal  poem,  and  as  Claudia  gazed  she  murmured  the  lines: 

"  Dr.y  set  on  Norham's  castled  steep, 
And  Tweed's  fair  river,  broad  and  deep, 

And  Cheviot's  mountains  lone; 
Tbo  batiled  towers,  the  donjon  keep, 
The  flanking  walls  that  round  it  sweep, 

In  yellow  luster  shone." 

Yes!  it  was  the  very  scene,  viewed  at  the  very  hour,  just  as 
the  poet  described  it  to  have  been  two  hundred  yeara  before, 
when 

"  Marmion,  Lord  of  Fontenaye, 
Of  Lutterward  and  Scrivelbaye, 
Of  Tarn  worth  tower  and  town," 

crossed  with  his  knightly  train  into  Scotland.  There  was  the 
setting  sun  burnishing  the  brown  tops  of  the  Cheviot  hills; 
gilding  the  distant  ruined  towers  of  Norham  Castle,  and  light 
ing  up  the  waters  of  the  Tweed. 

But  there  is  little  time  for  either  observation  or  dreaming  in 
a  railway  train. 

They  stopped  but  a  few  minutes  at  Berwick,  and  then  shot 
off  northward,  still  keeping  near  the  coast. 

Claudia  looked  out  upon  the  gray  North  Sea,  and  enjoyed  the 
magnificence  of  the  coast  scenery  as  long  as  the  daylight  lasted. 

When  it  was  growing  dark  Lord  Vincent  said : 

"You  had  just  as  well  close  that  window,  Claudia.  It  will 
give  us  all  cold ;  and  besides,  you  can  see  but  little  now." 

"  I  can  see  Night  drawing  her  curtain  of  darkness  around 
the  bed  of  the  troubled  waters.  It  is  worth  watching,"  mur 
mured  Claudia  dreamily. 

"  Bosh ! "  was  the  elegant  response  of  the  viscount ;  "  you 
will  see  enough  of  the  North  Sea  before  you  have  done  with  it, 
I  fancy."  And  with  an  emphatic  clap  he  let  down  the  window. 

Claudia  shrugged  her  shoulders  and  turned  away,  too  proud 
'to  dispute  a  point  that  she  was  powerless  to  decide. 

They  sped  on  towards  Edinboro',  through  the  darkness  of  one 
of  the  darkest  nights  that  ever  fell.  Even  had  the  window 
been  open  Claudia  could  not  have  caught  a  glimpse  of  the 
scenery.  She  had  no  idea  that  they  were  near  the  capital  of 
Scotland  until  the  train  ran  into  the  station.  Then  all  was 
bustle  among  those  who  intended  to  get  out  there. 

But  through  all  the  bustle  Lord  Vincent  and  his  party  kept 
their  seats. 


102  SELF-RAISED  J    OR,    FROM   THE   DEPTHS. 

"  I  am  very  weary  of  this  train.  I  have  not  left  my  seat  for 
many  hours.  Can  we  not  stop  over  night  here?  I  should  like 
to  see  Edinboro'  by  daylight,"  Claudia  inquired. 

"  What  did  you  say  ?  "  asked  Lord  Vincent,  with  nonchalance, 

Claudia   repeated  her  question,   adding: 

"  I  should  like  to  remain  a  day  or  two  in  Edinboro'.  I  wish 
to  see  the  Castle,  and  Holyrood  Palace  and  Abbey,  and  Roslyn 
and  Craigmiller,  and " 

"Everything  else,  of  course.  Bother!  We  have  no  time  for 
that.  I  have  taken  our  tickets  for  Aberdeen,  and  mean  to  sleep 
at  Castle  Cragg  to-night,"  replied  the  viscount. 

Claudia  turned  away  her  head  to  conceal  the  indignant 
tears  that  arose  to  her  eyes.  She  was  beginning  to  discover 
that  her  comfort,  convenience,  and  inclination  were  just  about 
the  last  circumstances  that  her  husband  was  disposed  to  take 
into  consideration.  What  a  dire  reverse  for  her,  whose  will 
from  her  earliest  recollection  had  been  the  law  to  all  around 
her! 

The  train  started  again  and  sped  on  its  way  through  the 
darkness  of  the  night  towards  Aberdeen,  where  they  arrived 
about  eight  o'clock. 

"  Here  at  last  the  railway  journey  ends,  thank  Heaven," 
sighed  Claudia,  as  the  train  slackened  its  speed  and  crawled 
into  the  station.  And  the  usual  bustle  attending  its  arrival 
ensued. 

Fortunately  for  Claudia,  the  viscount  found  himself  too 
much  fatigued  after  about  sixteen  hours'  ride  to  go  farther 
that  night.  So  he  directed  Mr.  Frisbie  to  engage  two  caba 
to  take  himself  and  his  party  to  a  hotel. 

And  when  they  were  brought  up  he  handed  Claudia,  who  was 
scarcely  able  to  stand,  into  the  first  one,  and  ordered  Frisbie 
to  put  the  "  gorillas "  into  the  other.  And  they  drove  to  a 
fourth-  or  fifth-rate  inn,  a  degree  or  two  dirtier,  dingier,  and 
darker  than  the  one  they  had  left  at  Liverpool. 

But  Claudia  was  too  utterly  worn  out  in  body,  mind,  and 
spirit  to  find  fault  with  any  shelter  that  promised  to  afford  her 
the  common  necessaries  of  life,  of  which  she  had  been  deprived 
for  so  many  hours. 

She  drank  the  tea  that  was  brought  her,  without  question 
ing  its  quality.  Arid  as  soon  as  she  laid  her  head  on  her  pillow 
she  sank  into  the  dreamless  sleep  of  utter  exhaustion. 

She  awoke  late  the  next  morning  to  take  her  first  look  at  the 


ROMATCCE   AND    EEALITY.  103 

old  town  through  a  driving  rain  that  lashed  the  narrow 
•windows  of  her  little  bedroom.  Lord  Vincent  had  already  risen 
and  gone  out. 

She  rang  for  her  servants.  Old  Katie  answered  the  bell, 
entering  with  uplifted  hands  and  eyes,  exclaiming: 

"  Well,  my  ladyship !  if  this  aint  the  outlandishest  country 
as  ever  was !  Coming  over  from  t'other  side  we  had  the  ocean 
unnerneaf  of  us,  and  now  'pears  to  me  like  we  has  got  it  over 
head  of  us,  by  the  fog  and  mist  and  rain  perpetual!  And  if 
this  is  being  of  lords  and  ladyships,  I'd  a  heap  leifer  be  misters 
and  mist'esses,  myself." 

"I  quite  agree  with  you,  Katie,"  sighed  Lady  Vincent,  as, 
with  the  old  woman's  assistance,  she  dressed  herself. 

"  It  seems  to  me  like  as  if  we  was  regerlerly  sold,  my  lady 
ship,"  said  old  Katie  mysteriously. 

"  Hush !  Where  are  we  to  have  breakfast — not  in  this  dis 
ordered  room,  I  hope  ?  " 

"  No,  my  ladyship.  They  let  us  have  a  little  squeezed-up 
parlor  that  smells  for  all  the  world  as  if  a  lot  of  men  had  been 
smoking  and  drinking  in  it  all  night  long.  My  lordship's 
down  there,  waiting  for  his  breakfast  now.  Pretty  place  to 
fetch  a  'spectable  cullored  pusson  to,  let  alone  a  lady!  Well, 
one  comfort,  we  won't  stay  here  long,  cause  I  heard  my  lordship 
order  Mr.  Frisbie  to  go  and  take  two  inside  places  and  four 
outside  places  in  the  stage-coach  as  leaves  this  mornin'  for 
Ban.  'Ban,'  'Ban';  'pears  like  it's  been  all  ban  and  no  bless- 
in'  ever  since  we  done  lef  Tanglewood." 

Lady  Vincent  did  not  think  it  worth  while  to  correct  Katie. 
She  knew  by  experience  that  all  attempts  to  set  her  right  would 
be  lost  labor. 

She  went  downstairs  and  joined  Lord  Vincent  in  the  little 
parlor,  where  a  breakfast  was  laid  of  which  it  might  be  said 
that  if  the  coffee  was  bad  and  the  bannocks  worse,  the  kippered 
herrings  were  delicious. 

After  breakfast  they  took  their  places  in  or  on  the  Banff 
mail  coach;  Lord  and  Lady  Vincent  being  the  sole  passengers 
inside;  and  all  their  servants  occupying  the  outside.  And  so 
they  set  out  through  the  drizzling  rain  and  by  the  old  turnpike 
road  to  Banff. 

This  road  ran  along  the  edge  of  the  cliffs  overhanging  the 
sea — the  sea,  ever  sublime  and  beautiful,  even  when  dimly  seen 
through  the  dull  veil  of  a  Scotch  mist. 


104        SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

Claudia  was  not  permitted  to  open  the  window;  but  she  kept 
the  glass  polished  that  she  might  look  out  upon  the  wild 
scenery. 

Late  in  the  afternoon  they  reached  the  town  of  Banff,  where 
they  stopped  only  long  enough  to  order  a  plain  dinner  and 
engage  flies  to  take  them  on  to  their  final  destination,  Castle 
Cragg,  which  in  truth  Claudia  was  growing  very  anxious  to 
behold. 

CHAPTER  XV. 

CASTLE   CRAGQ. 

The  wildest  scene,  but  this,  can  show 
Borne  touch  of  nature's  genial  glow; 
But  here,  above,  around,  below, 

On  mountain  or  in  glen, 
Nor  tree,  nor  shrub,  nor  plant,  nor  flower. 
Nor  aught  of  vegetative  power 

The  weary  eye  may  ken. 
For  all  is  rocks  at  random  thrown, 
Black  waves,  bare  crags,  and  banks  of  atone. 

— Scott. 

Immediately  after  dinner  they  set  out  again  on  this  last 
stage  of  their  journey,  Claudia  and  Vincent  riding  in  the  first 
fly  and  Frisbie  and  the  "gorillas"  in  the  second  one.  The 
road  still  lay  along  the  cliffs  above  the  sea.  And  Claudia  still 
sat  and  gazed  through  the  window  of  the  fly  as  she  had  gazed 
through  the  window  of  the  coach,  at  the  wild,  grand,  awful 
scenery  of  the  coast.  Hour  after  hour  they  rode  on  until  the 
afternoon  darkened  into  evening. 

The  last  object  of  interest  that  caught  Claudia's  attention, 
before  night  closed  the  scene,  was  far  in  advance  of  them  up 
the  coast.  It  was  a  great  promontory  stretching  far  out  into 
the  sea  and  lifting  its  lofty  head  high  into  the  heavens.  Upon 
its  extreme  point  stood  an  ancient  castle,  which  at  that  height 
seemed  but  a  crow's  nest  in  size. 

Claudia  called  Lord  Vincent's  attention  to  it. 

"  What  castle  is  that,  my  lord,  perched  upon  that  high  prom 
ontory?  I  should  think  it  an  interesting  place,  an  historical 
place,  built  perhaps  in  ancient  times  as  a  stronghold  against 
Danish  invasion,"  she  said. 

"  That  ?  Oh,  ah,  yes !  That  is  a  trifle  historical,  in  the  record 
of  a  score  of  sieges,  storms,  assaults,  and  so  on;  and  a  bit  tra 
ditional,  in  legends  of  some  hundred  capital  crimes  and  mortal 


CASTLE   CRAGG.  105 

Bins;  and  in  fact  altogether,  as  you  say,  rather  interesting,  es 
pecially  to  you,  Claudia.  It  is  Castle  Cragg,  and  it  will  have 
the  honor  to  be  your  future  residence." 

"  Heaven  forbid ! "  exclaimed  Claudia,  gazing  now  in  con 
sternation  upon  that  drear,  desolate,  awful  rock.  "  Dread  point 
of  Dis"  it  seemed  indeed  to  her. 

"For  a  season  only,  my  dear,  of  course,"  said  the  viscount, 
with  the  queerest  of  smiles,  of  which  Claudia  could  make 
nothing  satisfactory. 

She  continued  to  look  out,  but  the  longer  she  gazed  upon  that 
awful  cliff  and  the  nearer  she  approached  it,  the  more  appalled 
she  became.  She  now  saw,  in  turning  a  winding  of  the  coast, 
that  the  point  of  the  cliff  stretched  much  farther  out  to  sea 
than  had  at  first  appeared,  and  that  only  a  low  neck  of  land 
connected  it  with  the  main;  and  she  knew  that  when  the  tide 
was  high  this  promontory  must  be  entirely  cut  off  from  the 
coast  and  become,  to  all  intents  and  purposes,  an  island.  Ap 
proaching  nearer  still,  she  saw  that  the  cliff  was  but  a  huge, 
bare,  barren  rock,  of  which  the  castle,  built  and  walled  in  of 
the  same  rock,  seemed  but  an  outgrowth  and  a  portion. 

If  this  rock-bound,  sea-walled  dwelling-place,  which  had  evi 
dently  been  built  rather  for  a  fortification  than  for  a  family 
residence,  struck  terror  to  the  heart  of  Claudia,  what  effect 
must  it  have  had  upon  the  superstitious  mind  of  poor  old 
Katie,  riding  in  the  fly  behind,  when  Mr.  Frisbie  was  so  good 
as  to  point  it  out  to  her  with  the  agreeable  information  that  it 
was  to  be  her  future  home. 

"  What,  dat ! "  exclaimed  the  old  woman  in  consternation. 
"You  don't  mean  dat!     Well,  lord!     I'se  offen  hearn  tell  of 
de  'Debbil's  Icy  Peak,'  but  I  nebber  expected  to  cotch  my 
eyes  on  it,  much  less  lib  on  it,  I  tell  you  all  good !  " 
^     "  That's  it,  hows'ever,  Mrs.  Gorilla,"  said  Mr.  Frisbie. 
.     "  I  keep  a-telling  you  as  my  family  name  aint  Gorilla,  it's 
Mortimer;  dough  Gorilla  is  a  perty  name,  too;  it  ralely  is,  on'y 
you  see,  chile,  it  aint  mine,"  said  unconscious  Katie. 

But  the  darkening  night  shut  out  from  their  view  the  awful 
cliff  to  which,  however,  they  were  every  moment  approaching 
nearer. 

Fortunately  as  the  carriages  reached  the  base  of  this  cliff 
the  tide  was  low,  and  they  were  enabled  to  pass  the  neck  of 
land  that  united  the  island  to  the  coast  and  made  it  a  promon 
tory.  After  passing  over  this  narrow  strip  they  ascended  tfre  eiiff 


106  SELF-RAISED  J   OR,  FROM   THE   DEPTHS. 

by  a  road  so  steep  that  it  had  been  paved  with  flagstorei 
placed  edgeways  to  afford  a  hold  for  the  horses'  hoofs  and  aid 
them  in  climbing.  It  was  too  dark  to  see  all  this  then;  but 
Claudia  knew  from  the  inclined  position  of  the  carriage  how 
steep  was  the  ascent,  and  she  held  her  very  breath  for  fear. 
As  for  old  Katie,  in  the  carriage  behind,  she  began  praying. 

A  solitary  light  shone  amid  the  darkness  above  them.  It 
came  from  a  lamp  at  the  top  of  the  castle  gate.  They  reacho'I 
the  summit  of  the  cliff  in  safety,  and  Lady  Vincent  breathed 
freely  again  and  old  Katie's  prayers  changed  to  thanksgivings. 

They  crossed  the  drawbridge  over  the  ancient  moat  and  en 
tered  the  castle  gate.  The  light  above  it  revealed  the  ghastly, 
iron-toothed  portcullis,  that  looked  ready  to  fall  and  impale 
any  audacious  passenger  under  its  impending  fangs.  And  they 
entered  the  old  paved  courtyard  and  crossed  over  to  the  main 
entrance  of  the  castle  hall. 

Here,  at  length,  some  of  the  attendant  honors  of  Lady  Vin 
cent's  new  rank  seemed  ready  to  greet  her. 

The  establishment  had  been  expecting  its  lord  and  had  heard 
the  sound  of  carriages.  The  great  doors  were  thrown  open; 
lights  flashed  out;  liveried  servants  appeared  in  attendance. 

"  You  got  my  telegram,  I  perceive,  Cuthbert,"  Lord  Vincent 
said  to  a  large,  red-haired  Scot,  in  plain  citizen's  clothes,  who 
seemed  to  be  the  porter. 

"  Yes,  me  laird,  though,  as  yc  ken,  the  chiels  at  yon  office  at 
Banff  hae  to  send  it  by  a  special  messenger — sae  it  took  a  long 
time  to  win  here." 

"All  right,  Cuthbert,  since  you  received  it  in  time  to  be 
ready  for  us.  Light  us  into  the  green  parlor,  and  send  the 
housekeeper  here  to  attend  Lady  Vincent." 

"Yes,  me  laird,"  answered  the  man,  bowing  low  before  he 
led  the  way  into  a  room  so  elegantly  furnished  as  to  afford  a 
pleasant  surprise  to  Claudia,  who  certainly  did  not  expect  to 
find  anything  so  bright  and  new  in  this  dark,  old  castle. 

Here  she  was  presently  joined  by  a  tall,  spare,  respectable- 
looking  old  woman  in  a  black  linsey  dress,  white  apron  and  neck 
shawl,  and  high-crowned  Scotch  cap. 

"  How  do  you  do,  dame  ?  You  will  show  Lady  Vincent  to  her 
apartments  and  wait  her  orders." 

*  Eh,  sirs !  anither  ane ! "  ejaculated  the  old  woman  under 
her  breath;  then  turning  to  Claudia,  with  a  courtesy  she  saidr 

M I  ara  ready  to  attend  your  leddyship." 


CASTLE   CRAGG.  107 

Claudia  arose  and  followed  her  through  the  vast  hall  and  up 
the  lofty  staircase  to  another  great  square  stone  hall,  whose 
four  walls  were  regularly  indented  by  lines  of  doors  leading 
into  tie  bed  chambers  and  dressing  rooms. 

And  as  Claudia  looked  upon  this  array,  her  first  thought 
was  that  a  stranger  might  easily  get  confused  among  them 
and  open  the  wrong  door.  And  that  it  would  be  well  to  have 
them  numbered  as  at  hotels  to  prevent  mistakes. 

The  old  housekeeper  opened  one  of  the  doors  and  admitted 
her  mistress  into  a  beautifully  furnished  and  decorated  suite 
of  apartments  which  consisted  of  boudoir,  bedroom,  and  dressing 
room  opening  into  each  other,  so  that,  as  Claudia  entered  the 
first,  she  had  the  vista  of  the  three  before  her  eyes.  The  floors 
were  covered  with.  Turkey  carpets  so  soft  and  deep  in  texture 
that  they  yielded  like  turf  under  the  tread.  And  the  heavy 
furniture  was  all  of  black  walnut;  and  the  draperies  were  all 
of  golden-brown  satin  damask  and  richly  embroidered  lace. 

The  effect  of  the  whole  was  warm,  rich,  and  comfortable. 

Claudia  looked  around  herself  with  approbation;  her  spirits 
rose;  she  felt  reconciled  to  the  rugged  old  fortress  that  con 
tained  such  splendors  within  its  walls;  for  who  would  care 
how  rough  the  casket,  so  that  the  jewels  it  held  were  of  the 
finest  water?  Her  plans  "soared  up  again  like  fire." 

She  passed  through  the  whole  suite  of  rooms  to  the  dressing 
room,  which  was  the  last  in  succession,  and  seated  herself  in 
an  easy-chair  beside  a  bright  coal  fire. 

"  The  dinner  will  be  served  in  an  hour,  me  leddy.  Will  I 
bring  your  leddyship  a  cup  of  tea  before  you  begin  to  dress  ? " 
inquired  the  housekeeper. 

"If  you  please,  you  may  send  it  to  me  by  one  of  my  own 
women.  You  are  too  aged  to  walk  up  and  down  stairs,"  re 
plied  Claudia  kindly. 

"  Hech,  sirs !  I'm  e'en  reddy  to  haud  me  ain  wi'  any  lassie 
i'  the  house,"  said  she,  nodding  heir  tall,  flapping  white  sap. 

"Will  you  tell  me  your  name,  that  I  may  know  in  future 
what  to  call  you  ? "  Claudia  asked. 

"  It's  e'en  just  Mistress  Murdock,  at  your  leddyship's  bid 
ding.  And  now  I'll  gae  bring  the  tea." 

"  Send  my  servant  Katie  to  me  at  the  same  time,"  said  Lady 
Vincent,  who,  when  she  was  left  alone,  turned  again  to  view  the 
magnificence  that  surrounded  her. 

"  If  ever  I  spend  another  autumn  on  this  bleak  coast,  I  shall 


10$  SELF-RAISED  ;   OR,  FROM   THE   DEPTHS. 

take  care  to  fill  the  castle  halls  and  chambers  with  gay  com* 
pany,"  she  said  to  herself. 

The  housekeeper  entered  with  an  elegant  little  tea-service  of 
gold  plate,  and  set  it  on  a  stand  of  mosaic  work,  by  Claudia's 
eide. 

While  she  was  drinking  her  tea  Katie  entered,  smiling  with 
both  her  eyes  and  all  her  teeth. 

"  Well,  my  ladyship,  ma'am,  this  looks  like  life  at  last ;  don't 
it,  though?" 

"I  think  so,  Katie,"  said  her  mistress,  sipping  her  aromatic 
u  oolong." 

"  I  like  Scraggy  better  nor  I  thought  I  would." 

"You  like  what?" 

"  This  big  jail  of  a  house — Scraggy  something  or  other  they 
call  it" 

"  Castle  Cragg." 

"  Yes,  that's  it ;  plague  take  the  outlandish  names,  I  say !  " 

"Now,  Katie,  unpack  my  maize-colored  moire  antique.  I 
must  dress  for  dinner." 

Of  course  Claudia  expected  to  meet  no  one  at  dinner  except 
the  disagreeable  companion  of  her  journey;  but  Claudia  woul< 
have  made  an  elaborate  evening  toilet  had  there  been  no  one 
but  herself  to  admire  it. 

So  she  arrayed  herself  with  very  great  splendor  and  went 
downstairs. 

In  the  lower  hall  she  found  the  porter  and  several  footmen. 

"  Show  me  into  the  drawing  room,"  she  said  to  the  former. 

Old  Cuthbert  bowed  and  walked  before  her,  and  threw  open 
a  pair  of  folding  doors  leading  into  the  grand  saloon  of  the 
castle.  And  Claudia  entered. 


CHAPTER  XVL 

FAUSTINA. 

And  she  was  beautiful,  they  said; 

I  saw  that  she  was  more — 
One  of  those  women  women  dread, 

Men  fatally  adore. 

— Anon. 

It  was  a  saloon  of  magnificent  proportions  and  splendid 
decorations.  And  Claudia  was  sailing  across  it  with  majestic 
gait,  in  the  full  consciousness  of  being  the  Viscountess  Vin- 


FAUSTINA.  109 

eent  and  Lady  of  the  Castle,  when  suddenly  her  eyes  fell  upon 
aa  object  that  arrested  her  footsteps,  while  she  gazed  in  utter 
amazement. 

One  of  the  most  transcendently  beautiful  women  that  she  had 
ever  beheld  lay  reclining  in  the  most  graceful  and  alluring 
attitude  upon  a  low  divan.  Her  luxuriant  form,  arrayed  in 
rich,  soft,  white  moire  antique  and  lace,  was  thrown  into 
harmonious  relief  by  the  crimson  velvet  cover  of  the  divan.  < 
She  was  asleep,  or  perhaps  affecting  to  be  so.  One  fine,  round, 
brown  arm,  with  its  elbow  deep  in  the  downy  pillow,  rose  from 
its  falling  sleeve  of  silk  and  lace,  and  with  its  jeweled  hand, 
buried  in  masses  of  glittering,  purplish  black  ringlets,  sup 
ported  a  head  that  Rubens  would  have  loved  to  paint.  Those 
rich  ringlets,  flowing  down,  half  veiled  the  rounded  arm  and 
full,  curved  neck  and  bosom  that  were  otherwise  too  bare  for 
delicacy.  The  features  were  formed  in  the  most  perfect  mold 
of  Oriental  beauty;  the  forehead  was  broad  and  low;  the  nose 
fine  and  straight;  the  lips  plump  and  full;  and  the  chin  small 
and  rounded.  The  eyebrows  were  black,  arched,  and  tapering 
at  the  points;  the  eyelashes  were  black,  long,  and  drooping 
over  half-closed,  almond-shaped,  dark  eyes  that  seemed  floating 
in  liquid  fire.  The  complexion  was  of  the  richest  brown,  ripen 
ing  into  the  most  brilliant  crimson  in  the  oval  cheeks  and  dewy 
lips  that,  falling  half  open,  revealed  the  little  glistening  white 
teeth  within.  While  one  jeweled  hand  supported  her  beautiful 
head  the  other  drooped  over  her  reclining  form,  holding 
negligently,  almost  unconsciously,  between  thumb  and  finger, 
an  odorous  tea-rose. 

Claudia  herself  was  a  brilliant  brunette,  but  here  was  anothei 
brunette  who  eclipsed  her  in  her  own  splendid  style  of  beauty 
as    an    astral    lamp    outshines    a    candle.      Cleopatra,    Thais, 
Aspasia,  or  any  other  world-renowned    siren  who  had  governed; 
kingdoms  through  kings'  passions,  might  have  been  just  such  a! 
woman  as  this  sleeping  Venus. 

Doubting  really  whether  she  slept  or  not,  Claudia  approached 
and  looked  over  her;  and  the  longer  she  looked  the  more  she 
wondered  at,  admired,  and  instinctively  hated  this  woman. 

Who  was  she?    What  was  she?    How  came  she  there? 

So  absorbed  was  Claudia  in  these  questions,  while  gazing  at 
the  beautiful  and  unconscious  subject  of  them,  that  she  did 
not  perceive  the  approach  of  Lord  Vincent  until  he  actually 
etood  at  her  side. 


110        SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

Theu  si.e  looked  up  at  him  inquiringly,  and  pointed  at  the 
sleeping  beauty. 

But  instead  of  replying  to  her,  he  bent  over  the  sleeper  and 
whispered : 

"  Faustina ! " 

Now,  whether  she  were  really  sleeping  or  shamming,  the 
awakening,  real  or  pretended,  was  beautiful.  The  drooping, 
^lack-fringed  eyelid's  slowly  lifted  themselves  from  the  eyes — 
two  large  black  orbs  of  soft  fire;  and  the  plump,  crimson  lips 
opened,  and  dropped  tivo  liquid  notes  of  perfect  music — the 
syllables  of  his  baptismal  name: 

"Malcolm!" 

"  Faustina,  you  are  dreaming ;  awaken !  remember  where  you 
are,"  he  said  in  a  low  voice. 

She  slowly  raised  herself  to  a  sitting  posture  and  looked 
around;  but  every  movement  of  hers  was  perfect  grace. 

"  Lady  Vincent,  this  is  Mrs.  Dugald,"  said  the  viscount. 

Claudia  drew  back  a  step,  and  bent  her  head  with  r"_  _.lr  of 
the  most  freezing  hauteur. 

Mrs.  Dugald  also  bent  hers,  but  immediately  threw  it  up 
and  shook  it  back  with  a  smile. 

So  graceful  was  this  motion  that  it  can  be  compared  to 
nothing  but  the  bend  and  rebound  of  a  lily. 

But  when  Claudia  looked  up  she  detected  a  strange  glance 
of  intelligence  between  her  two  companions.  The  beauty's 
eyes  flashed  from  their  sheath  of  softness  and  gleamed  forth 
upon  the  man — two  living  stilettos  pointed  with  death. 

His  look  expressed  annoyance  and  fear. 

He  turned  away  and  touched  the  bell. 

"Let  dinner  be  served  immediately,"  he  said  to  the  servant 
•who  answered  the  summons. 

"  Dinner  is  served,  my  lord,"  answered  the  man,  pushing 
aside  the  sliding  doors  opening  into  the  dining  room. 

Lord  Vincent  waved  his  hand  to  Lady  Vincent  to  precede 
them,  and  then  gave  his  arm  to  Mrs.  Dugald  to  follow  her. 

But  when  they  reached  the  dining  room  Mrs.  Dugald  left 
his  arm,  advanced  to  the  head  of  the  table,  and  stood  with  her 
hand  upon  the  back  of  the  chair  and  her  gaze  upon  the  face  of 
the  viscount. 

"  No ;  Lady  Vincent  will  take  the  head  of  the  table,"  said 
his  lordship,  giving  his  hand  to  Claudia  and  installing  her. 

"As  you  will;  but  'where  the  MacDonald  sits,  there  is  the 


FAUSTINA.  Ill 

nead  of  the  table,'"  said  Mrs.  Dugald,  quoting  the  haughty 
words  of  the  Lord  of  the  Isles,  as  she  gave  way  and  subsided 
into  a  side  seat. 

Lord  Vincent,  with  a  lowering  brow,  sat  down. 

Old  Cuthbert,  who  sometimes  officiated  as  butler,  placed 
himself  behind  his  lord's  chair,  and  two  footmen  waited  on  the 
table. 

The  dinner  was  splendid  in  its  service,  and  luxurious  in  its 
viands;  but  most  uncomfortable  in  its  company,  and  it  sug 
gested  the  Scripture  proverb:  "Better  is  a  dinner  of  herbs 
where  love  is,  than  a  stalled  ox  and  hatred  therewith." 

Claudia,  for  one,  was  glad  when  it  was  over,  and  they  were 
permitted  to  return  to  the  saloon,  where  coffee  awaited  them. 

"  Mrs.  Dugald,  will  you  give  me  seme  music  ? "  said  Lord 
Vincent,  in  the  course  of  the  evening. 

The  beauty  arose,  and  floated  away  in  her  soft,  swimming 
gait  towards  the  piano. 

Lord  Vincent  went  after  her  and  opened  the  instrument; 
and  when  she  sat  down  he  stood  behind  her  chair  to  turn  over 
the  music. 

She  played  a  brilliant  prelude,  and  then  commenced  singing. 

Claudia,  who,  at  the  proposition  that  Mrs.  Dugald  should 
give  Lord  Vincent  "  some  music,"  had  shrugged  her  shoulders 
and  turned  her  back,  was  now  startled.  She  turned  around — 
listened.  Claudia  was  a  most  fastidious  connoisseur  of  music, 
and  she  recognized  in  this  performer  an  artiste  of  the  highest 
order.  Claudia  had  heard  such  music  as  this  only  from  the 
best  opera  singers — certainly  from  no  unprofessional  performer. 

After  executing  a  few  brilliant  pieces  the  beautiful  musician 
arose  with  a  weary  air  and,  saying  that  she  was  tired,  cour- 
tesied,  smiled,  and  withdrew  from  the  room. 

Lord  Vincent  walked  slowly  up  and  down  the  floor. 

"  Who  is  Mrs.  Dugald  ?  "  inquired  Claudia  coldly. 

"Mrs.  Dugald  is — Mrs.  Dugald,"  replied  his  lordship,  affect 
ing  a  light  tone. 

"  That  is  no  answer,  my  lord." 

"  Well,  my  lady,  she  is  a  relation  of  mine.  Will  that  do  for 
an  answer  ? " 

"  What  sort  of  a  relation  ?  " 

"  A  very  near  one." 

"How  near?" 

tt  She  is  nay — sister,"  smiled  Lord  Vincent. 


112        SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

"  Your  sister  ?  I  know  that  you  have  only  two  sisters,  and 
they  are  styled  'ladies' — Lady  Eda  and  Lady  Clementina 
Dugald.  This  is  a  '  Mrs.'  She  cannot  be  your  sister,  and  not 
even  your  sister-in-law,  since  you  have  no  brother." 

The  viscount  coolly  lighted  his  cigar  and  walked  out  of  the 
room. 

Claudia  remained  sitting  where  he  had  left  her,  deeply  per 
plexed  in  mind.  Then,  feeling  too  restless  to  sit  still,  she  arose 
and  began  to  walk  about  the  room  and  examine  its  objects  of 
interest — its  pictures,  statues,  vases,  et  cetera. 

She  then  went  to  the  windows;  the  shutters  were  closed,  the 
blinds  down  and  the  curtains  drawn,  so  that  she  could  not 
look  out  into  the  night;  but  she  could  hear  the  thunder  of  the 
sea  as  it  broke  upon  the  rock  on  which  the  castle  was  founded. 

Tired  of  that,  she  went  to  the  music  stand,  near  the  piano, 
and  began  to  turn  over  the  music  books. 

She  picked  up  one  from  which  Mrs.  Dugald  had  been  singing. 
In  turning  it  over  her  eyes  fell  upon  the  picture  of  a  full-length 
female  form  engraved  upon  the  cover.  She  looked  at  it  more 
closely.  It  was  the  portrait  of  the  woman  who  had  been  intro 
duced  to  her  as  Mrs.  Dugald.  But  it  bore  the  name:  La 
Faustina,  as  Norma. 


CHAPTER 

THE  PLOT  AGAINST  CLAUDIA. 

Alas!  a  thought  of  saddest  weight 

Presses  and  will  have  vent: 
Had  she  not  scorned  his  love,  her  fate 

Had  been  BO  different! 
Had  her  heart  bent  its  haughty  will 

To  take  him  for  its  lord, 
She  had  been  proudly  happy  still; 

Still  honored,  still  adored. 

— Monckton  Milne*. 
\ 

Indignation  rooted  Claudia  to  the  spot. 

Instinct  had  already  warned  her  that  she  was  insulted 
and  degraded  by  the  presence  of  this  strange  woman  in  the 
house. 

Reason  now  confirmed  instinct. 

And  Claudia  was  entirely  too  self-willed  and  high-spirited 
to  submit  to  either  insult  or  degradation. 


THE   PLOT   AGAINST   CLAITDIA.  113 

She  instantly  resolved  to  demand  of  Lord  Vincent  the  im 
mediate  dismissal  of  this  woman,  and  to  keep  her  own  rooma 
until  her  demand  was  complied  with. 

This,  in  fact,  was  the  only  truly  dignified  course  of  conduct 
that,  under  the  circumstances,  Claudia  could  have  pursued. 

With  this  resolution  she  withdrew  from  the  drawing  rooms, 
and  went  upstairs  to  seek  her  own  apartment. 

Here  the  very  accident  happened  that  we  mentioned  as  being 
so  likely  to  happen  to  any  newcomer  to  the  castle. 

As  she  reached  the  great  hall  on  the  second  floor  she  looked 
around  upon  the  many  doors  that  opened  from  its  four  walls 
into  the  many  suites  of  apartments  that  radiated  from  it,  as 
from  a  common  center,  to  the  outer  walls  of  the  castle  keep. 

But  which  was  her  own  door  she  was  puzzled  for  a  moment 
to  decide. 

The  chandelier  that  hung  from  the  ceiling  gave  but  a  sub 
dued  light  that  helped  her  but  little. 

At  last  she  thought  she  had  found  her  own  door;  she 
judged  it  to  be  her  own  because  it  was  partly  open  and  she  saw, 
through  the  vista  of  the  three  rooms,  the  little  coal  fire  that 
burned  dimly  in  the  last  one. 

So  she  silently  crossed  the  hall,  walking  on  the  soft  deep 
drugget,  into  which  her  footsteps  sank  noiselessly,  as  she  en 
tered  what  she  supposed  to  be  her  own  boudoir. 

The  room  was  dark,  except  from  the  gleam  of  light  that  stole 
in  from  the  chandelier  in  the  hall,  and  the  dull  glow  of  the 
coal  fire  that  might  be  dimly  seen  in  the  distant  dressing  room, 
at  the  end  of  the  suite. 

Claudia,  however,  had  no  sooner  entered  the  room  and  looked 
around  than  she  discovered  that  it  was  not  hers.  This  suite 
of  apartments  was  arranged  upon  the  same  plan  as  her  own — 
first  the  boudoir,  then  the  bed  chamber,  and  last  the  dressing 
room  with  the  little  coal  fire;  but — the  hangings  were  different; 
for,  where  hers  had  been  golden  brown,  these  were  rosy  red. 

And  she  was  about  to  retire  and  close  the  door  softly  when 
the  sound  of  voices  in  the  adjoining  room  arrested  her  steps. 

The  first  that  spoke  was  the  voice  of  Faustina,  in  tones  of 
passionate  grief  and  remonstrance.  She  was  saying: 

"  But  to  bring  her  here !  here,  of  all  the  places  in  the  world ! 
here,  under  my  own  very  eyes !  Ah !  " 

"  My  angel,  I  had  a  design  in  bringing  her  here,  a  design  In 
which  your  future  honor  and  happiness  is  involved,"  said  the 


114         SELF-RAISED;  OR,  A^M  THE  DEPTHS. 

voice  of  Lord  Vincent,  in  such  tones  of  persuasive  tenderness 
as  he  had  never  used  in  speaking  to  his  betrayed  and  miserable 
wife. 

"My  honor  and  happiness!  Ah!"  cried  the  woman  with 
a  half-suppressed  shriek. 

"  Faustina,  my  beloved,  listen  to  me ! "  entreated  the  vis 
count. 

"  Do  not  love  her !  Do  not,  Malcolm !  If  you  do  I  warn  you 
that  I  shall  kill  her ! "  wildly  exclaimed  the  woman,  interrupt 
ing  him. 

"  My  angel,  I  love  only  you.    How  can  you  doubt  it  ? " 

"  How  can  I  doubt  it  ?  Because  you  have  deceived  me.  Not 
once,  nor  twice,  nor  thrice;  but  always  and  in  everything, 
from  first  to  last !  " 

"  Deceived  you,  Faustina !  How  can  you  say  so  ?  In  what 
have  I  ever  deceived  you?  Not  in  vowing  that  I  love  you;  for 
I  do !  You  must  know  it.  How,  then,  have  I  deceived  you  ? " 

"  You  promised  to  make  me  your  viscountess." 

"  And  I  will  do  so.    I  swear  it  to  you,  Faustina." 

"  Ah,  you  have  sworn  so  many  oaths  to  me." 

"I  will  keep  them  all — trust  me!  I  would  die  for  you; 
•would  go  to  perdition  for  you,  Faustina!" 

"  You  will  keep  all  your  oaths  to  me,  you  say  ? " 

"All  of  them,  Faustina!" 

"  One  of  them  is,  that  you  will  make  me  your  viscountess ! " 

"  Yes,  and  I  will  do  it,  my  angel.  Who  but  yourself  should 
share  my  rank  with  me?  I  will  make  you  my  viscountess, 
Faustina." 

"  How  can  you  do  that,  even  if  you  wished  to  do  so  ?  She  is 
your  viscountess." 

"Yes,  for  a  little  while;  and  for  a  little  while  only.  Untfl 
she  has  served  the  purpose  for  which  I  married  her — and  no 
longer,"  said  the  viscount. 

"  Ah !  v.  hat  do  you  mean  ?  "  There  was  breathless  eagerness 
and  ruthless  cruelty  in  the  tone  and  manner  in  which  the 
woman  put  this  question. 

The  viscount  did  not  immediately  reply. 

And  Claudia,  her  blood  curdling  with  horror  at  what  seemed 
plainly  a  design  against  her  life,  left  her  position  near  the  door 
of  the  boudoir  and  concealed  herself  behind  the  crimson  satin 
hangings;  feeling  fully  justified  in  becoming  an  eavesdropper 
upon  conversation  that  concerned  her  safety. 


THE   PLOT   AGAINST   CLAUDIA.  115 

"  What  do  you  mean  ? "  again  whispered  the  woman,  with 
restrained  vehemence. 

" '  Be  innocent  of  the  knowledge,  dearest  chuck,  'till  you  ap 
prove  the  deed,' "  quoted  Lord  Vincent. 

"But  trust  me;  I  am  ready  to  aid  you  in  the  deed,  and  to 
share  with  you  the  danger  it  must  bring,  for  I  love  you,  Mal 
colm,  I  love  you !  Confide  in  me !  Tell  me  what  you  mean," 
she  whispered  in  low,  deep,  vehement  tones. 

"  I  mean — not  what  you  imagine,  Faustina.  Turn  your  face 
away.  Those  eyes  of  yours  make  my  blood  run  sold.  No  I 
We  English  are  not  quite  so  ready  with  bowl  and  dagger  as 
you  Italians  seem  to  be.  We  like  to  keep  within  bounds." 

"  I~  do  not  understand  you,  then." 

"  No,  you  do  not.  And  you  will  not  understand  me  any 
better  when  I  say  to  you,  that  I  shall  get  rid  of  my  Indian 
Princess,  not  by  breaking  the  law,  but  by  appealing  to  the  law." 

"No;  it  is  true;  I  do  not  understand  you.  You  seem  to  be 
playing  with  me." 

"  Listen,  then,  you  bewitching  sprite.  You  reproached  me 
just  now  with  bringing  her  here,  here  under  your  very  eyes, 
you  said.  Faustina,  I  brought  her  here,  to  this  remote  hold, 
that  she  might  be  the  more  completely  in  my  power.  That 
I  might,  at  leisure  and  in  safety,  mature  my  plans  for  getting 
entirely  rid  of  her." 

"But,  Malcolm,  why  did  you  marry  her  at  all?  An,  I  fear, 
I  fear,  it  was  after  all  a  real  passion,  though  a  transient  one, 
that  moved  you !  " 

"  No ;  I  swear  to  you  it  was  not !  I  have  never  loved  woman 
but  you!" 

"  But  why  then  did  you  marry  her  at  all  ? " 

"My  angel,  I  told  you  why.  You  should  have  believed 
me!  My  marriage  was  a  financial  necessity.  The  earl,  my 
father,  chose  to  take  umbrage  at  what  he  called  my  disreput 
able " 

"  Bah !  "  exclaimed  the  woman,  in  contempt. 

"  Well,  let  the  phrase  pass.  The  Earl  of  Hurstmonceux  chose 
to  take  offense  at  my  friendship  with  your  lovely  self.  And 
he — did  not  threaten  to  stop  my  allowance  unless  I  would  break 
with  you;  but  he  actually  and  promptly  did  stop  it  until  I 
should  do  so." 

"Beast!" 

"  Certainly ;  but  then  what  was  to  be  done?    I  had  no  income; 


116  SELF-RAISED  ;    OR,    FROM   THE   DEPTHS. 

nothing  to  support  myself;  much  less  you,  with  your  elegant 
tastes." 

"  I  could  have  gone  on  the  boards  again !  I  did  not  love  you 
for  your  money;  you  know  it,  Malcolm." 

"I  do  know  it,  my  angel;  and  in  that  respect,  as  in  all 
others,  you  were  immeasurably  above  your  fancied  rival,  who 
certainly  loved  me  only  for  my  rank." 

"But  why  then  did  you  not  rather  let  me  return  to  the 
boards?" 

"  Where  your  beauty  brought  you  so  many  admirers  and  me 
BO  many  rivals?" 

"  But  I  preferred  you  to  them  all." 

"  I  know  it,  Faustina." 

"  Why  then  not  let  me  go  ?  " 

"I  could  not  bear  the  thought  of  it,  my  precious  treasure. 
I  preferred  to  sacrifice  myself.  The  opportunity  occurred  in 
this  way.  You  know  that  I  left  England  as  the  bearer  of  dis 
patches  to  our  minister  in  the  United  States." 

"  Yes." 

"  The  very  day  after  I  reached  Washington  I  met  at  the  even 
ing  reception  at  the  President's  house  this  Indian  Princess, 
as  she  was  called.  I  was  no  sooner  presented  to  her  than  she 
began  to  exercise  all  her  arts  of  fascination  upon  me.  But 
my  heart  was  steeled  by  its  love  for  you  against  the  charms 
of  all  others." 

"Ah!  don't  stop  to  pay  compliments;  go  on." 

"Well,  but  I  was  good-natured,  and  I  flattered  her  vanity 
by  flirting  with  her  a  little." 

"  A  little ! "  repeated  the  woman,  curling  her  beautiful  lip. 

"  Yes,  only  a  little ;  for  I  had  no  idea  of  seriously  addressing 
her  until  I  discovered  that  she  possessed  in  her  own  right  one 
of  the  largest  fortunes  in  the — world,  I  was  going  to  say — and 
I  should  not  have  been  far  wrong,  for  she  had  in  fact  inherited 
three  immense  fortimes.  This  was  the  way  of  it.  Her  mother 
•was  the  only  child  of  a  millionaire,  and  of  course  inherited 
the  whole  of  her  father's  estate.  She  had  also  two  bachelor 
uncles  who  had  made  immense  fortunes  in  trade,  and  who  left 
the  whole  to  their  niece,  in  her  own  right.  She,  dying  young, 
bequeathed  the  whole  unconditionally  to  her  daughter." 

"Ciel!  what  good  luck!    How  much  is  it  all  put  together?* 

"  About  three  millions  of  pounds  sterling." 

"Ma  foi!    In  what  does  it  consist-"" 


THE    PLOT   AGAINST    CLAUDIA.  117 

"It  did  consist  in  bank  stock,  railway  shares,  lead  mines, 
city  houses,  iron  foundries,  tobacco  plantations,  country  seats, 
gorillas,  etc.  It  now  consists  in  money." 

"But  what  good,  if  you  get  rid  of  her,  will  it  do  you?  Is 
it  not  settled  on  the  lady  ? " 

**  No !  I  took  very  good  care  of  that.  When  I  saw  that  she 
was  doing  all  she  could  to  entrap — not  me,  for  for  me  she  did 
not  care,  but — a  title,  I  humored  her  by  falling  into  the  snare. 
I  addressed  her.  We  were  engaged.  Then  her  governor  talked 
of  settlements.  I  took  a  high  tone,  and  expressed  astonishment 
and  disgust  that  any  lady  who  was  afraid  to  trust  me  with  her 
money  should  be  so  willing  to  confide  to  me  the  custody  of  her 
person.  And  the  negotiations  might  have  come  to  an  end  then 
and  there,  had  not  the  lady  herself  intervened  and  scornfully 
waived  the  question  of  settlements.  She  had  always  ruled  her 
father  and  everyone  else  around  her  in  every  particular,  and 
she  ruled  in  this  matter  also.  The  fact  is,  that  she  was  deter 
mined  to  be  a  viscountess  at  any  price,  and  she  is  one — for  a 
little  while!" 

"What  a  fooll" 

"  Yes,  she  was  a  poor  gambler ;  for  it  was  a  game  between  us. 
She  was  playing  for  a  title,  I  for  a  fortune;  well,  she  won  the 
title  and  I  won  the  fortune.  Or  rather  you  may  call  it  purchase 
and  sale.  She  bought  a  title  and  paid  a  fortune  for  it.  For  the 
moment  the  marriage  ring  encircled  her  finger  she  became  the 
Viscountess  Vincent  and  I  became  the  possessor  of  her  three 
millions  of  pounds  sterling." 

"  Ah,  that  marriage  ring !  There  is  another  broken  oath ! 
You  swore  to  me,  once,  that  no  living  woman  should  ever  wear 
a  marriage  ring  of  your  putting  on,  except  myself !  "  complained 
Faustina. 

"And  I  have  kept  that  oath,  my  angel.  If  ever  you  see  Lady 
Vincent  without  her  gloves,  look  on  the  third  finger  of  her 
left  hand  and  see  if  there  is  any  wedding  ring  to  be  found 
there." 

"  But  you  yourself,  just  now,  spoke  of  the  ring  on  her  finger, 
saying  that  as  soon  as  it  was  placed  there,  you  became  the 
possessor  of  her  three  millions  of  pounds  sterling." 

"  1  will  explain.  Listen !  I  remembered  my  vow  to  you.  I 
got  the  ring  purposely  too  large  for  her  finger;  consequently, 
soon  after  it  was  placed  on,  it  dropped  off  and  rolled  away. 
When  the  ceremony  was  over  the  gentlemen  searched  for  it.  I 


lio         SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

found  it  and  concealed  it.  She  never  saw  it  again.  Here  it  ia 
I  give  it  to  you." 

Claudia  from  her  hiding  place  stooped  forward  until  she  got 
a  glimpse  of  the  two  traitors. 

She  saw  the  viscount  open  his  pocketbook  and  take  from  an 
inner  compartment  her  own  wedding  ring,  and  place  it  upon  the 
finger  of  his  companion,  saying: 

*  There,  my  angel,  wear  it ;  it  will  fit  your  fat  finger,  though 
it  was  too  large  for  her  slender  one." 

"  What  will  she  say  when  she  sees  it  ?  "  inquired  the  woman, 
contemplating  the  golden  circle  with  a  triumphant  smile. 

"  She  will  not  recognize  it.  All  wedding  rings  are  alike. 
This  one  has  no  mark  to  distinguish  it  from  all  other  wedding 
rings." 

"  And  so  I  have  got  it ! "  said  the  woman,  clapping  her 
hands  gleefully. 

"Yes,  my  sweet,  and  you  shall  have  everything  else;  the 
three  millions  of  pounds  sterling  and  the  title  of  viscountess 
included." 

"  Ah !  but  how  got  you  all  the  fortune  in  money  so  easily  ? " 

"  I  sold  everything,  bank  stock,  railway  shares,  city  houses, 
tobacco  plantations,  lead  mines,  foundries,  gorillas,  and  all ! 
And  I  have  transferred  the  whole  in  simple  cash  to  this 
country." 

"  And  it  is  three  millions  ? " 

"  Three  millions." 

"  Ciel !  Now,  then,  I  can  have  my  villa  at  Torquay,  and 
my  yacht,  and  my " 

"You  can  have  everything  you  want  now,  and  the  rank  and 
position  of  viscountess  as  soon  as  I  can  get  rid  of  her." 

"Ah,  yes!  but  when  will  that  be?" 

"  Very,  very  soon,  I  hope.  Just  as  soon  as  I  can  mature  my 
plans." 

"But  what  are  they?" 

"  Scarcely  to  be  breathed  even  here.  The  very  walls  have 
ears,  you  know." 

"  Tell  me ;  what  does  the  earl  think  of  this  marriage  of 
yours?" 

"  So,  so ;  he  wrote  me  a  cool  letter,  saying  that  he  would  have 
preferred  that  I  should  have  married  an  Englishwoman  of  my 
own  rank;  but  that  since  the  lady  was  of  respectable  family 
and  large  fortune,  he  should  welcome  her  as  a  daughter.  And 


THE   PLOT    AGAINST   CLAUDIA.  119 

,  that  any  sort  of  a  decent  marriage  was  better  than— 
but  let  that  pass !  " 

"  Yes,  let  it  pass.    Beast !  " 

"Never  mind,  my  angel.    Your  turn  will  come." 

"Ah,  surely,  yes!  But  is  he  not  expecting  to  welcome  hia 
wealthy  daughter-in-law  ? " 

"  Not  yet.  No,  we  have  come  over  a  full  month  before  we 
were  looked  for.  The  earl  is  traveling  on  the  Continent.  His 
daughter-in-law  will  be  disposed  of  before  he  returns  to  Eng 
land." 

"Ha,  ha,  good!  But  is  not  miladie  amusing  herself  with 
the  anticipation  of  being  introduced  to  her  noble  father-in- 
law?" 

"  Ha.  ha,  ha !  yes !  You  would  have  been  diverted,  '  Tina, 
if  you  could  have  heard  her  talk  of  her  plans  when  coming  over. 
Ah!  but  that  was  good.  I  laughed  in  my  sleeve." 

*'  Tell  me !  and  I  will  laugh  now." 

"  Well,  she  expected  to  land  on  the  shores  of  England  like 
any  royal  bride;  to  find  the  Earl  of  Hurstmonceux  waiting  to 
welcome  her;  to  be  introduced  to  my  family;  to  be  presented 
to  her  majesty;  to  be  feted  by  the  nobility;  lionized  by  the 
gentry ;  and  idolized  by  our  own  tenantry.  In  short,  she  dreamed 
of  a  grand  royal  progress  through  England,  of  which  every 
stage  was  to  be  a  glorious  triumph !  Ha,  ha,  ha !  " 

"  Ha,  ha,  ha !  "  echoed  Faustina. 

"  But  instead  of  entering  England  like  a  royal  bride,  she 
was  smuggled  into  England  like  a  transported  felon,  who  had 
returned  before  her  time  of  penal  service  in  the  colonies  had 
expired.  Instead  of  a  triumphal  entry  and  progress  along  the 
highways,  she  was  dragged  ignominiously  through  the  byways! 
Instead  of  halting  at  the  palatial  Adelphia,  we  halted  at  the 
obscure  Crown  and  Miter." 

"  Ha,  ha,  ha !  Good !  that  was  very  good !  But  why  did  you 
do  this?  Not  that  I  care  for  her.  I  care  not.  But  my 
curiosity.  And  it  must  have  inconvenienced  you,  this  squalor." 

"  Well,  it  did.  But  I  was  resolved  she  should  meet  no  coun 
trymen;  form  no  acquaintances;  contract  no  friendships;  in 
fine,  have  no  party  here  in  England.  The  Adelpnia  was  full 
of  American  travelers;  the  Queen's  was  full  of  my  friends. 
In  either  she  would  have  got  into  some  social  circles  that  might 
aave  proved  detrimental  to  my  purposes.  As  it  was  managed 
Ay  me.  no  one.  exceot  the  passengers  that  came  over  with  us,  and 


120        SELF-RAISED  ;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

dispersed  from  Liverpool  all  over  the  Continent,  knew  anything 
about  her  arrival.  At  the  Crown  and  Miter  she  was  half  a 
mile  in  distance  and  half  a  thousand  miles  in  degree  from  any 
one  connected  with  our  circle.  No  one,  therefore,  knows  her 
whereabouts;  no  inquiries  will  be  made  for  her;  we  may  do  with 
her  as  we  like." 

"  Oh,  ciel !  and  we  will  quickly  make  way  with  her." 

"  Quickly." 

"But  how?" 

"  Another  time  I  will  tell  you,  'Tina.  Now  I  must  be  gone. 
I  must  not  linger  here.  It  becomes  us  to  be  very  wary." 

"  Go,  then.  But  ah !  you  go  to  her.  Misery !  Do  not  love 
her!  If  you  do — remember  I  will  kill  her!  I  have  sworn  it. 
You  say  that  you  will  make  way  with  her  by  the  help  of  the  law. 
Do  it  soon;  or  be  sure  I  will  make  way  with  her  in  spite  of  the 
law." 

"Hush!  be  tranquil.  Trust  in  me.  You  shall  know  all  in 
a  few  days.  Good-night !  " 

"  Ah !  you  are  leaving  me.  You,  that  I  have  not  seen  for  so 
many  months  until  now — and  now  have  seen  but  a  few  minutes 
alone.  And  you  go  to  her — her,  with  whom  you  have  been  in 
company  all  the  time  you  have  been  away  from  me!  Ah,  I 
hate  her !  I  will  kill  her ! "  exclaimed  the  woman,  in  low, 
vehement  tones. 

"  Faustina,  be  quiet,  or  all  is  lost !  You  must  be  my  sister- 
in-law  only  until  you  can  be  my  wife.  To  accomplish  this  pur 
pose  of  ours,  you  must  be  very,  very  discreet,  as  I  shall  be.  Be 
on  your  guard  always.  Treat  Lady  Vincent  with  outward 
respect,  as  I  must  do,  in  the  presence  of  the  servants.  They 
must  be  our  future  witnesses.  Surely  you  will  be  enabled  to 
do  what  I  require  of  you  in  this  respect,  when  I  assure  you  that 
I  hate  my  viscountess  as  deeply  as  you  hate  your  rival." 

"Ha!  you?" 

"Yes;  for  in  her  heart  she  despises  me  and  adores  another. 
She  is  unfaithful  to  me  in  thought.  And  it  shall  go  hard,  but 
I  will  make  it  appear  that  she  is  unfaithful  in  deed,  too,  and 
so  send  her,  dishonored  and  impoverished,  from  the  castle," 
said  the  viscount  vindictively. 

"CieH  Is  that  your  plan?  I  understand  now.  I  trust  you, 
my  Malcolm." 

"Good-night,  then;  and  don't  be  jealous." 

u  Never  I    I  trust  you.    I  shall  triumph." 


Or  THE  TRAITOR'S  TOILS.  121 

CHAPTEE  XVLTL 
IN  THE  TRAITOR'S  TOILS. 

Her  heart  is  sick  with  thinking 

Of  the  misery  she  must  find. 
Her  mind  is  almost  sinking — 

That  once  so  buoyant  mind — • 
She  cannot  look  before  her, 

On  the  evil-haunted  way. 
Eedeem  her!  oh!  restore  her! 

Thou  Lord  of  night  and  day! 

— Monckton  Milnes. 

Overwhelmed  with  horror,  terror,  and  indignation,  Claudia 
just  tottered  from  the  room  in  time  to  escape  discovery. 

On  reaching  the  hall  she  saw  the  door  leading  into  her  own 
suite  of  apartments  wide  open  and  all  the  rooms  lighted  up  and 
old  Katie  moving  about,  unpacking  trunks  and  hanging  up 
dresses.  Katie,  it  seemed,  with  something  like  canine  instinct 
as  to  locality,  had  experienced  no  difficulty  in  finding  her 
mistress'  rooms. 

As  soon  as  Lady  Vincent  entered  her  dressing  room  the  old 
woman  drew  the  resting  chair  and  footstool  up  to  the  fire,  and 
when  Claudia  had  dropped  into  the  seat  she  leaned  over  the 
back  of  the  chair,  and  forgetting  ceremony,  spoke  to  her  nurs 
ling  as  she  had  spoken  to  her  in  the  days  of  that  nursling's 
infancy. 

"Miss  Claudia,  honey,  I  wants  to  talk  to  you  downright 
ser'us,  I  do." 

"  Talk  on,  Katie,"  sighed  Claudia. 

"  But,  'deed,  I'm  feared  I  shall  hurt  your  feelings,  honey." 

"You  cannot  do  that." 

"Well,  then,  honey — but  'deed  you  must  excuse  me,  Miss 
Claudia,  because  I  wouldn't  say  a  word,  only  I  think  how  it  is 
my  bounden  duty." 

"  For  Heaven's  sake,  Katie,  say  what  you  wish  to  without  so 
much  preface." 

"Well,  then,  Miss  Claudia — laws,  honey,  I's  nussed  you 
ever  since  you  was  borned,  and  been  like  another  mammy  to  you 
ever  since  your  own  dear  mammy  went  to  heaven,  and  if  I 
haven't  got  a  right  to  speak  free,  I'd  like  to  know  who  has!" 

"Certainly;  certainly!  Only,  in  mercy,  go  on!"  exclaimed 
Claudia,  who,  fevered,  excited,  and  nearly  maddened  by  what 


122  SELF-RAISED  J    OR,    FROM   THE   DEPTHS. 

she  had  overheard,  could  scarcely  be  patient  with  her  old  ser 
vant. 

"  Well,  Miss  Claudia,  honey,  it  is  all  about  this  strange 
foreign  'omaa  as  is  a-wisiting  here." 

"  Ah !  "  exclaimed  Claudia,  looking  up  and  becoming  at  once 
interested. 

"Miss  Claudia,  honey,  that  'oman  aint  no  fitting  company 
for  you.  She  aint." 

"  Ah !  what  do  you  know  of  her  ? "  inquired  Claudia  in  a  low, 
breathless,  eager  voice. 

"Honey,  I  cotch  my  eye  on  her  dis  evening.  You  see  dis 
was  de  way  of  it,  chile.  I  was  in  dis  very  room;  but  I  hadn't 
lighted  up  de  lamps,  so  I  was  in  'parative  darkness,  and  de 
big  hall  was  in  'parative  light;  so  dey  couldn't  see  me,  but  I 
could  see  dem,  when  dey  come  into  de  big  hall,  her  and  my 
lordship.  And  I  seen  her  how  she  look  at  him,  and  smile  on 
him,  and  coo  over  him  like  any  turkle  dove,  as  no  'spectable 
lady  would  ever  do.  And  so  dey  walks  into  dat  room,  opposite 
to  dis." 

"  Katie,  I  do  not  wish  to  hear  any  more  of  this  stuff.  You 
forget  yourself,  surely ! "  said  Lady  Vincent,  suddenly  waking 
to  the  consciousness  that  she  was  compromising  her  dignity  in 
listening  to  the  tale-bearing  of  a  servant,  even  so  old  and  tried 
as  Katie  was. 

"  Very  well,  Miss  Claudia,  honey,  you  knows  best ;  but  take 
one  piece  of  advice  from  de  best  friend  you's  got  on  dis  side 
o'  de  big  water.  You  'void  dat  'oman.  Oh,  Miss  Claudia, 
chile!  wouldn't  you  keep  out'n  de  way  of  anybody  as  had  de 
smallpox  or  any  other  deadly  plague  ?  Tell  me  dat !  " 

"  Of  course  I  would." 

"  Oh,  Miss  Claudia,  honey,  listen  to  me,  den !  Dere  is  worser 
plagues  dan  de  smallpox;  more  'fectious  and  more  fatal,  too. 
Moral  plagues!  De  fust  plague,  Miss  Claudia,  can  only  dis- 
figur'  de  face  and  kill  de  body;  but  de  las'  plague  can  disfigur' 
de  heart  and  kill  de  soul.  Miss  Claudia,  'void  dat  'oman ! 
She  '11  'feet  you  with  the  moral  plague  as  is  deadly  to  de  heart 
and  soul,"  said  the  old  woman,  with  a  manner  of  deep  solemnity. 

Claudia  was  moved.    She  shook  as  she  answered : 

"  Katie,  you  mean  well ;  but  let  us  talk  no  more  of  this  to 
night.  And  whatever  your  thoughts  may  be  of  this  evil  woman, 
I  must  beg  that  you  will  not  utter  them  to  any  one  of  the  other 
servants." 


IN   THE   TKAITOR?S   TOILS.  123 

"I  won't,  Miss  Claudia.  I  won't  speak  of  her  to  nobody 
but  you." 

"  Nor  to  me,  unless  I  ask  you.  And  now,  Katie,  bring  me  my 
dressing  gown  and  help  me  to  disrobe.  I  am  tired  to  death." 

"  And  no  wonder,  honey,"  said  the  old  woman,  as  she  went 
to  obey. 

When  she  had  arranged  her  young  mistress  at  ease  in  dress 
ing  gown  and  slippers,  in  the  resting  chair,  she  would  still 
have  lingered  near  her,  tendering  little  offices  of  affection,  but 
Claudia,  wishing  to  be  alone,  dismissed  her. 

Lady  Vincent  had  need  of  solitude  for  reflection. 

As  soon  as  old  Katie  had  left  her  alone  she  clasped  her  hands 
and  fell  back  in  her  chair,  exclaiming:  "What  shall  I  do? 
Oh!  what  shall  I  do?" 

She  tried  to  think;  but  in  the  whirl  of  her  emotions,  thought 
was  very  difficult,  almost  impossible.  She  felt  that  she  had 
been  deceived  and  betrayed;  and  that  her  situation  was  critical 
and  perilous  in  the  extreme.  What  should  she  do?  to  whom 
should  she  appeal  ?  how  should  she  escape  ?  where  should  she  go  ? 

Should  she  now  "beard  the  lion  in  his  den";  charge  Lord 
Vincent  with  his  perfidy,  duplicity,  treachery,  and  meditated 
crime;  demand  the  instantaneous  dismissal  of  Faustina;  and 
insist  upon  an  immediate  introduction  to  his  family  as  the  only 
means  of  safety  to  herself  ?  Where  would  be  the  good  of  that  ? 
She,  a  "  stranger  in  a  strange  land,"  an  inmate  of  a  remote 
coast  fortress,  was  absolutely  in  Lord  Vincent's  power.  He 
would  deride  her  demands  and  defy  her  wrath. 

Should  she  openly  attempt  to  leave  the  castle  and  return  to 
her  native  country  and  her  friends?  Again,  what  would  be 
the  good  of  such  an  attempt?  Her  departure,  she  felt  sure, 
would  never  be  permitted. 

Should  she  try  to  make  her  escape  secretly?  That  would  be 
difficult  or  impossible.  The  castle  stood  upon  the  extreme 
point  of  its  high  promontory,  overlooking  the  sea;  it  was  re 
mote  from  any  other  dwelling;  the  roads  leading  from  it  were 
for  miles  impassable  to  foot  passengers.  And  besides  all  this, 
Claudia  was  unwilling  to  take  such  a  very  undignified  course. 

In  fact,  she  was  unwilling  to  abandon  her  position  at  all — 
painful  and  dangerous  as  it  was ;  having  purchased  it  at  a  high 
price  she  felt  like  retaining  and  defending  it. 

What  then  should  she  do  ?  The  answer  came  like  an  inspira 
tion.  Write  to  her  father  to  come  over  immediately 


124         SELF-RAISED;  OB,  FROM  THE  DEFIES. 

to  her  aid.  And  get  him  to  bring  aboui,  her  introductibft 
to  the  Earl  of  Hurstmonceux's  family  and  her  recognition  by 
their  circle.  This  course,  she  thought,  would  secure  her  per 
sonal  safety  and  her  social  position,  if  not  her  domestic  happi 
ness;  for  the  latter  she  had  never  dared  to  hope. 

And  while  waiting  for  her  father's  arrival,  she  would  be 
*wise  as  serpents,"  if  not  "harmless  as  doves."  She  would 
meet  Lord  Vincent  on  his  own  grounds  and  fight  him  with 
his  own  weapons;  she  would  beat  duplicity  with  duplicity.  . 

But  first  to  write  the  letter  to  her  father  and  dispatch  it 
secretly  by  the  first  mail.  She  arose  and  rang  the  bell. 

Katie  answered  it. 

"  Unpack  my  little  writing  desk  and  place  it  on  this  stand 
beside  me." 

Katie  did  as  she  was  ordered. 

"  Now  lock  the  door  and  wait  here  until  I  write  a  letter." 

Katie  obeyed  and  then  seated  herself  on  a  footstool  near  her 
lady's  feet. 

Claudia  opened  her  writing  desk;  but  paused  long,  pen  in 
hand,  reflecting  how  she  had  better  write  this  letter. 

If  she  should  tell  her  father  at  once  of  all  the  horror  of  her 
position  the  sudden  news  might  throw  him  into  a  fit  of  apoplexy 
and  kill  him  instantly. 

And  on  the  other  hand,  if  she  were  to  conceal  all  this  and 
merely  write  him  a  pressing  invitation  to  come  over  immedi 
ately,  he  might  take  his  time  over  it. 

Speed  Claudia  felt  to  be  of  the  utmost  importance  to  her 
cause.  So,  after  due  reflection,  she  dipped  her  pen  in  ink,  and 
commenced  as  follows: 

"Castle  Cragg,  near  Banff,  Buchan,  Scotland. 
"My  Dearest  Father:  We  are  all  in  good  health;  therefore- 
do  not  be  alarmed,  even  though  I  earnestly  implore  you  to  drop! 
everything  that  you  may  have  in  hand,  and  come  over  to  me* 
immediately,  by  the  very  first  steamer  that  sails  after  your 
receipt  of  this  letter.  Father,  you  will  comply  with  my  entreaty 
when  I  inform  you  that  I  have  been  deceived  and  betrayed 
by  him  who  swore  to  protect  and  cherish  me.  My  life  and 
honor  are  both  imperiled.  I  will  undertake  to  guard  both  for 
a  month,  until  you  come.  But  come  at  once  to  your  wronged, 
though  "Loving  child, 

"  Claudia." 


IN  THE  TRAITOR'S  TOILS.  125 

She  sealed  the  letter  very  carefully,  directed  it,  and  ga^e 
it  into  the  hands  of  her  old  servant,  saying: 

"Katie,  listen  to  every  word  I  say,  and  obey  to  the  very 
letter.  Take  this  downstairs  and  give  it  to  Jim  privately.  Let 
no  one  see,  or  hear,  or  even  suspect  what  you  are  doing.  Tell 
him  to  steal  out  carefully  from  the  castle  and  walk  to  the 
nearest  roadside  inn,  and  hire  a  horse  and  ride  to  Banff,  and 
mail  this  letter  there;  and  then  come  back  and  report  progress 
to  you.  Now,  Katie,  do  you  understand  what  you  h$jve  got 
to  do?" 

«  Yes,  Miss  Claudia." 

"  Repeat  it  to  me,  then." 

Katie  rehearsed  her  instructions.  ~ 

"  That  will  do.    Hurry  now  and  obey  them." 

When  Katie  had  gone  Lady  Vincent  closed  her  writing  desk, 
threw  herself  back  in  her  chair,  covered  her  face  with  her  hands, 
and  wept. 

She  was  startled  by  the  entrance  of  Lord  Vincent. 

She  hastily  dried  her  eyes,  and  shifted  her  position  so  that 
her  back  was  to  the  light  and  her  face  in  deep  shadow. 

"You  are  sitting  up  late,  my  lady.  I  should  think  you 
would  be  tired  after  your  long  journey,"  he  said,  as  he  took 
another  armchair  and  seated  himself  opposite  to  her. 

"  I  was  just  thinking  of  retiring,"  answered  Claudia,  putting 
severe  constraint  upon  herself. 

"  But  since  I  find  you  sitting  up,  if  it  will  not  fatigue  you  too 
much,  I  will  answer  some  questions  you  asked  me  concerning 
Mrs.  Dugald,"  said  his  lordship. 

"  Yes  ? "  said  Claudia,  scarcely  able  to  breathe  the  single 
syllable. 

"  Yes.  You  inquired  of  me  who  she  was.  I  told  you  she  was 
my  sister.  You  did  not  believe  me;  but  you  should  have  done 
so,  for  I  told  you  the  truth.  She  is  my  sister." 

Ssarcely  able  to  restrain  her  indignation  at  this  impudent 
falsehood,  and  fearful  of  trusting  the  sound  of  her  own  voice, 
Claudia  answered  in  a  low  tone: 

"I  supposed  that  you  were  jesting  with  my  curiosity.  I 
knew,  of  course,  that  your  sisters  were  titled  ladies.  Mrs.  Du 
gald  is  an  untitled  one,  therefore  she  could  not  be  your  sister; 
nor  could  she  be  your  sister-in-law,  since  you  are  an  only  son." 

"  You  are  mistaken  in  both  your  premises :  Mrs.  Dugald  is 
my  sister-in-law,  and  is  a  titled  lady,  since  she  is  the  widow  of 


126  SELF-RAISED  J    OR,    FROM   THE   DEITHS. 

my  younger  half-brother,  the  Honorable  Kenneth  Dugald,* 
eaid  the  viscount  triumphantly. 

"  I  never  heard  that  your  deceased  brother  had  been  married," 
answered  Claudia  coolly. 

"  No  ?  Why,  bless  you,  yes !  About  four  years  ago  he  mar 
ried  the  beauty  over  whom  all  Paris  was  going  raving  mad. 
She  was  the  prima  donna  of  the  Italian  opera  in  Paris.  But 
the  marriage  was  not  pleasing  to  the  earl,  who  is  severely 
afflicted  with  the  prejudices  of  his  rank.  He  immediately  dis 
owned  his  son,  the  Honorable  Kenneth,  never  speaking  to  him 
again  during  his,  Kenneth's,  life.  And  more  than  that,  he  car* 
ried  his  resentment  beyond  the  grave;  for  even  after  Kenneth 
died  of  a  fever  contracted  in  the  Crimea,  and  his  widow  was 
left  unprovided  for,  and  with  the  pleasant  alternative  of  starv 
ing  to  death  or  dragging  the  noble  name  of  Dugald  before  the 
footlights  of  the  stage,  my  father  politely  informed  her  that  she 
was  at  liberty  to  go  on  the  stage  or  to  go  to — hem !  It  was  then 
that  I  offered  La  Faustina  an  asylum  in  my  house,  which  she 
accepted.  And  I  hope,  Lady  Vincent,  that  you  will  be  good 
enough  to  make  her  welcome,"  said  Lord  Vincent. 

Claudia  could  not  reply;  the  anger,  scorn,  and  disgust  that 
filled  her  bosom  fairly  choked  her  voice. 

After  a  struggle  with  herself,  she  managed  to  articulate : 

"  How  does  the  earl  like  your  protection  of  this  woman  ? " 

"I  wish  you  would  not  use  that  word  'protection,'  Claudia. 
It  is  an  equivocal  one." 

"  Then  it  is  the  better  suited  to  describe  the  relation,  which 
is  certainly  most  equivocal !  "  Claudia,  in  spite  of  all  her  reso 
lutions,  could  not  for  the  life  of  her  help  replying. 

"  It  is  false !  And  I  will  not  permit  you  to  say  it.  The  posi 
tion  of  Mrs.  Dugald  is  not  an  equivocal  one.  It  is  clearly  de- 
lined.  She  is  my  brother's  widow.  When  I  invited  her  to  take 
up  her  residence  in  this  castle  I  took  care  to  leave  it  before  she 
Arrived.  And  I  never  returned  to  it  until  to-day,  when  I 
brought  you  with  me.  Your  presence  here,  of  course,  renders 
the  residence  of  my  brother's  widow  beneath  my  roof  alto 
gether  proper." 

Claudia  had  much  to  do  to  control  her  feelings,  as  she 
said: 

"We  will  waive  the  question  of  propriety,  which,  of  course, 
is  settled  by  my  presence  in  the  house;  but  you  have  not  yet 
told  me  how  the  earl  likes  this  arrangement." 


IN  THE  TRAITOR'S  TOILS.  12? 

"1  have  not  s«en  the  earl  since  the  arrangement  has  been 
made.  I  fancy  he  will  like  it  well,  since  it  relieves  him  of  the 
burden  of  having  her  to  support,  and  saves  him  from  the 
mortification  of  seeing  her  return  to  the  boards." 

"  Good-night,  my  lord ! "  said  Claudia  abruptly,  rising  and 
retiring  to  ker  bedroom,  for  she  felt  that  she  could  not  remain 
another  moment  in  Lord  Vincent's  presence,  without  con 
fronting  him  with  her  perfect  knowledge  of  his  meditated  vil 
lainy,  and  thus  losing  her  only  chance  of  defeating  it. 

Claudia  retired  to  bed,  but,  though  worn  out  with  fatigue, 
she  could  not  sleep.  This,  then,  was  her  coming  home!  She 
had  sold  her  birthright,  and  got  not  even  the  "  mess  of  pottage," 
but  the  cup  of  poison. 

She  lay  tossing  about  with  fevered  veins  and  throbbing  tem 
ples  until  morning,  when,  at  last,  she  sunk  into  a  sleep  of  ex 
haustion. 

She  awoke  with  a  prostrating,  nervous  headache.  She  at 
tempted  to  rise,  but  fell  helplessly  back  upon  the  pillow.  Then 
she  reached  forth  her  hand  and  rang  the  bell  that  hung  at  the 
side  of  her  bed. 

Katie  answered  it. 

"Did  Jim  succeed  in  mailing  my  letter?"  was  her  first 
question. 

"  Yes,  my  ladyship ;  but  he  had  to  wait  ever  so  long  before 
the  tide  ebbed  to  let  him  cross  over  to  the  shore;  but  he  got 
there  all  right,  and  in  time  to  save  the  mail;  but  he  didn't  get 
back  here  until  this  morning." 

"  Did  anyone  find  out  his  going  ?  " 

"  Not  a  living  soul,  as  I  knows  of,  Miss  Claudia. 

"  Thank  Heaven !  "  said  Lady  Vincent,  with  a  deep  sigh. 

Old  Katie  busied  herself  with  bringing  her  mistress'  stock 
ings,  soft  slippers,  and  dressing  gown  to  the  bedside ;  but  Clau 
dia  said: 

"Put  them  away  again,  Katie;  I  shall  not  rise  to-day.  I 
have  one  of  my  very  bad,  nervous  headaches.  You  may  bring 
me  a  cup  of  strong  coffee." 

"  Ah,  honey,  no  wonder !  I  go  bring  it  directly,"  said  Katie, 
hurrying  away  with  affectionate  eagerness  to  bring  the  fra 
grant  restorative. 

A  few  minutes  afterwards  Katie  entered  with  the  tray,  fol 
lowed  by  the  housekeeper,  Mrs.  Murdock,  who  came  with  anx 
ious  inquiries  as  to  Lady  Vincent's  health. 


128         SELF-RAISED;  OB,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

"I  have  a  very  bad,  nervous  hearache,  which  is  not  sur> 
prising,  after  all  my  fatigue,"  replied  Claudia. 

"  Nay,  indeed,  and  it  is  not,  me  leddy ;  you  should  lie  quietly 
in  bed  to-day,  and  to-morrow  you  will  be  well,"  said  the  dame. 

"  Yes." 

"And,  me  leddy,  Mrs.  Dugald  bid  me  give  her  compliments 
to  your  leddyship,  and  ask  if  she  should  come  and  sit  with  you." 

"  I  cannot  receive  Mrs,  Dugald,"  said  Claudia  coldly. 

"Ah,  then  I  will  say  your  leddyship  is  na  weel  enough  to 
receive  company  ? " 

"  Say  what  you  please.    I  cannot  receive  Mrs.  Dugald." 

Old  Katie  had  gone  into  the  dressing  room  to  stir  the  fire, 
which  was  to  warm  the  whole  suite.  Taking  advantage  of 
her  absence  the  housekeeper  sat  down  beside  Lady  Vincent's 
bed,  and,  while  pouring  out  her  coffee,  stooped  and  nodded  and 
whispered : 

"Aye!  and  sma'  blame  to  your  leddyship,  gin  ye  never  re 
ceive  the  likes  of  her." 

"What  do  you  know  of  Mrs.  Dugald  that  you  should  say 
so  ? "  was  Claudia's  cold  question.  For  alas,  poor  lady,  she 
was  in  sad  straits!  She  had  need  to  glean  knowledge  of  her 
dangerous  enemy  from  every  possible  quarter;  but — she  felt 
that  she  must  do  so  without  committing  herself,  or  compro 
mising  her  dignity. 

"  Nay,  I  ken  naething !  I  dinna  like  the  quean !  that's  all ! " 
said  the  woman,  growing  all  at  once  reserved. 

"  She  is  the  widow  of  the  late  Honorable  Kenneth  Dugald  ? " 
said  Claudia,  in  a  tone  that  might  be  received  either  as  a 
statement  or  a  question. 

"  Sae  it  is  said.  I  ken  naething  anent  it,"  replied  the  dame, 
taking  up  the  tray  of  empty  cups.  "Will  your  leddyship  ha* 
anything  more  ?  " 

"No,  thank  you,  Mrs.  Murdock,"  replied  Claudia,  in  a  very 
sweet  tone,  for  she  felt  that  in  her  pride  of  place  she  had  re 
pulsed  the  offered  confidence  of  an  honest  old  creature  who 
might  have  been  of  great  use  to  her. 

"  Will  I  sit  wi'  your  leddyship  ? "  inquired  the  dame. 

"No,  I  am  much  obliged  to  you.  I  must  rest  now;  but  I 
should  be  glad  if  you  would  come  to  me  later  in  the  day." 

"Yes,  me  leddy,"  answered  the  dame,  somewhat  mollified,  as 
she  courtesied  and  withdrew  from  the  room,  leaving  Lady  Vin 
cent  to  the  care  of  her  own  faithful  servant. 


CLAUDIA'S  TROUBLES  AND  PERILS.  129 

CHAPTEE  XIX. 
CLAUDIA'S  TROUBLES  AND  PERILS. 

Like  love  in  a  worldly  breast 

Alone  in  my  lady's  chamber 
The  lamp  burns  low,  suppressed 

'Mid  satins  of  broidered  amber 
Where  she  lies,  sore  distressed. 

My  lady  here  alone 
May  think  till  her  heart  is  broken 

Of  the  love  that  is  dead  and  done, 
Of  the  day  that  with  no  token 

For  evermore  hath  gone. 

— Owen  Meredith,. 

All  day  long  Claudia  lay  abed  within  her  darkened  chamber. 
It  was  a  scene  of  magnificence,  luxury,  and  repose.  Scarcely 
a  ray  of  light  stole  through  the  folds  of  the  golden-brown 
curtains  of  window  and  bed.  No  sound  broke  the  stillness  of 
the  air,  except  the  dull,  monotonous  thunder  of  the  sea  upon 
the  rocks  below.  This  at  length  soothed  her  nervous  excite 
ment  and  lulled  her  to  repose. 

She  slept  until  the  evening,  and  awoke  comparatively  free 
from  pain. 

Her  first  thought  on  waking  was  of  the  housekeeper,  and 
her  first  feeling  was  the  desire  to  see  the  old  creature,  and  if 
possible  make  a  friend  of  her. 

Ah!  but  it  was  bitterly  galling  to  Lady  Vincent's  pride  to 
be  obliged  to  stoop  to  the  degradation  of  questioning  a  ser 
vant  concerning  the  domestic  affairs  of  her  own  husband's 
family!  But  she  felt  that  her  life  and  honor  were  imperiled, 
and  that  she  must  use  such  means  for  her  safety  as  circum 
stances  offered.  Mrs.  Murdock  impressed  her  as  being  an  hon 
est,  truthful,  and  trustworthy  woman.  And  Claudia  wished 
to  discover,  by  what  should  seem  casual  conversation  with  her, 
how  much  or  how  little  truth  there  might  be  in  Lord  Vincent's 
representations  of  Mrs.  Dugald's  position  in  the  family. 

She  put  out  her  hand  and  rang  the  bell  that  hung  just  within 
her  reach. 

Katie  answered  it. 

"  Tell  the  housekeeper  I  would  like  to  see  her  now,"  said 
Lady  Vincent. 


130        SELF-RAISED;  OB,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

Katie  tossed  her  head  and  went  out.  Katie  was  already  jeal 
ous  of  the  housekeeper. 

In  a  few  minutes  Mrs.  Murdock  entered.  . 

"I  hope  your  leddyship  is  better,"  she  said,  courtesying. 

"I  am  better;  do  not  stand;  sit  down  on  that  chair  beside 
me,"  said  Claudia  kindly. 

The  dame  sank  slowly  into  the  offered  seat  and  said :  "  Will 
your  leddyship  please  to  take  ony thing  ? " 

"  Nothing,  just  yet." 

"Can  I  do  naething  for  you,  me  leddy?" 

"  Yes,  thank  you ;  you  can  take  that  Bacon  of  carmelite  water 
on  the  stand  beside  you  and  bathe  my  forehead  and  temples 
while  you  sit  there,"  said  Claudia  slowly  and  hesitatingly; 
for  she  was  thinking  how  best  to  open  the  subject  that  occupied 
her  mind.  At  length,  while  the  dame  was  carefully  bathing  her 
head,  Claudia  said,  with  assumed  carelessness : 

"Mrs.  Dugald  is  very  beautiful." 

"  Ou,  aye,  me  leddy,  she's  weel  eneugh  to  look  upon,  if  that 
was  a',"  replied  the  housekeeper  dryly. 

"  Has  she  been  here  long  ?  " 

"Ever  sin'  Mr.  Kenneth  died,  me  leddy." 

"Mr.  Kenneth?"  echoed  Claudia,  in  an  interrogative  tone; 
for  she  remembered  well  that  Kenneth  was  the  name  of  Lord 
Vincent's  younger  brother,  said  to  have  been  married  to  La 
Faustina;  but  she  wished  to  hear  more  without,  however,  com 
promising  herself  by  asking  direct  questions. 

"  Mr.  Kenneth  ?  "  she  repeated,  looking  into  the  housekeeper's 
face. 

"  Ou,  aye,  your  leddyship ;  just  the  Honorable  Kenneth  Du 
gald,  puir  lad !  " 

"  Why  do  you  say  poor  lad  ? " 

"  I  beg  your  leddyship's  pardon.  I  mean  just  naething.  It's 
on'y  just  a  way  I  ha'." 

Claudia  reflected  a  moment;  and  then,  though  it  went  sorely 
against  her  pride  so  to  speak  to  a  .dependent,  she  said: 

"  Mrs.  Murdock,  I  am  a  very  young  and  inexperienced 
woman ;  I  have  been  motherless  from  my  infancy ;  I  am  '  a 
stranger  in  a  strange  land ' ;  unacquainted  even  with  the  mem 
bers  of  my  husband's  family;  my  meeting  with  Mrs.  Dugald 
here  was  unexpected,  Lord  Vincent  never  having  mentioned  her 
existence  to  me;  my  first  impression  of  her  was  very  unfavor 
able;  some  words  you  dropped  deepened  that  impression;  and 


CLAUDIA'S  TEOUBLES  AND  PERILS.  131 

now  I  feel  that  there  are  circumstances  with  which  I  ought 
to  be  made  acquainted  and  with  which  you  can  acquaint  me; 
will  you  do  so  ? " 

"  Aye,  me  leddy,  and  with  the  freer  conscience  that  I  ken 
weel  his  lairdship  the  airl  would  approve.  Ye  ken,  me  l»ddy, 
there  were  but  twa  brithers;  Laird  Vincent  and  the  Honorable 
Kenneth  Dugald?" 

"  I  am  aware  of  that." 

"  Aweel  they  were  in  Paris  tegither  and  fell  in.  somewhere 
with  this  quean." 

"This— what?" 

"  This  player-bodie,  me  leddy ;  who  afterwards  put  the  glam 
our  over  Mr.  Kenneth's  eyes  to  make  her  Mrs.  Dugald." 

"  Oh,"  said  Claudia  to  herself,  "  then  that  is  true ;  the  woman 
really  is  the  widow  of  Kenneth  Dugald  and  the  sister-in-law 
of  Lord  Vincent.  Go  on,  Mrs.  Murdock ;  I  am  listening." 

"  Aweel,  she  had  the  art,  me  leddy,  to  make  him  marry  her. 
A  burning  shame  it  was,  me  leddy,  in  one  of  his  noble  name, 
but  he  did  it.  He  was  a  minor,  ye  ken,  being  but  twenty  years 
of  age,  and  sae  he  could  na  be  lawfu'  married  in  France  nor 
in  England,  and  sae  he  brought  his  player-woman  to  auld 
Scotland  and  made  her  his  wife — woe  worth  the  day !  " 

"  This  must  have  been  a  terrible  mortification  to  the  earl  ? " 

"  Ye  may  weel  say  that,  me  leddy.  His  lairdship  never  saw 
or  spoke  to  Mr.  Kenneth  afterwards.  But  he  purchased  him  a 
commission  in  a  regiment  that  was  just  about  to  embark  for 
the  Crimea,  where  the  young  gentleman  went,  taking  his  wife 
with  him,  and  where  he  died  of  the  fever,  leaving  his  widow 
to  find  her  way  back  as  she  would." 

"  Poor  young  man !  " 

"  Aye,  puir  laddie !  nae  doubt  regret  helped  the  fever  to  kill 
him.  Aweel,  his  widow  come  her  ways  back  to  Scotland,  as  I 
had  the  honor  to  tell  your  leddyship,  and  made  her  appeal  to 
his  lairdship  the  airl  for  dower.  But  your  leddyship  may  weel 
ken  that  me  laird  would  ha'e  naething  to  say  till  her.  Will  I 
bathe  your  leddyship's  head  ony  langer  ?  " 

"  Yes,  please,  and  go  on  with  what  you  are  telling  me." 

"  Aweel,  me  leddy,  failing  to  come  over  the  airl,  she  began  to 
cast  her  spells  over  his  lairdship  my  Laird  Vincent.  This  gave 
the  airl  great  oneasiness,  for  ye  ken  he  feared  this  woman  that 
she  should  bewitch  the  ane  as  she  had  the  ither,  e'en  to  the 
length  of  making  him  marry  her.  And  to  sa;  naething  of  ony 


132    SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

ither  reason  against  siccan  a  marriage,  we  think  it  wrong  foi 
ony  mon  to  wed  wi'  his  brother's  widow.  Sae  the  airl  took 
short  measures  wi'  his  son,  Laird  Vincent,  and  stopped  his 
siller;  but  got  him  an.  appointment  to  carry  out  papers  to  the 
minister,  away  yonder  in  the  States.  Sae  the  young  laird  sent 
his  sister-in-law,  as  he  calls  her,  up  here  to  bide  her  lane,  tell 
ing  his  feyther,  the  airl,  he  could  na'  turn  his  brither's  widow 
out  of  doors.  Which,  ye  ken,  me  leddy,  sounded  weel  eneugh. 
Sae  hither  she  cam'.  And  an  unco'  sair  heart  she's  gi'e  us 
a'  sin'  ever  she  cam' ! " 

"  Has  she  been  here  ever  since  ? " 

"  Nay,  me  leddy ;  she  left  hame  last  August  and  did  na  come 
back  till  a  month." 

Claudia  was  satisfied.  This  was  the  same  woman  that  she  had 
seen  on  the  platform  of  the  railway  station  at  Jersey  City. 

"Does  the  earl  know  of  this  lady's  continued  residence  be 
neath  his  roof  ? " 

"I  dinna  ken,  me  leddy.  But  I'm  just  thinking  his  lairdship 
will  na  care  onything  about  it  ony  langer,  sin'  his  son  is  weel 
married  to  yoursel',  me  leddy." 

"  The  earl  liked  his  son's  marriage,  then  ?  "  inquired  Claudia, 
for  upon  this  point  she  felt  anxious  for  authentic  information. 

"Aye,  did  he!  didna  it  keep  the  lad  out  o'  danger  o'  tho 
wiles  o'  siccan  a  quean  as  yon?  And  now,  will  I  bring  your 
leddyship  some  refreshment  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Claudia,  "  you  may  bring  me  a  bowl  of  your 
oatmeal  porridge.  I  should  like  to  taste  your  national  food." 

The  housekeeper  left  the  room  and  Claudia  fell  into  thought. 
Two  important  facts  she  had  gained  by  descending  from  her 
dignity  to  gossip  with  an  upper  servant,  namely:  That  La 
Faustina  was  really  the  widow  of  Kenneth  Dugald,  and  that  the 
Earl  of  Hurstmonceux  was  well  pleased  with  his  son's  marriage 
to  herself,  and  would  therefore  be  likely  to  be  her  partisan  in 
any  trouble  she  might  have  on  account  of  Mrs.  Dugald.  She 
resolved,  therefore,  to  be  very  wary  in  her  conduct  until  the 
arrival  of  her  father,  and  then  to  request  an  introduction  to 
the  earl's  family.  Bitterly  galling  as  it  would  be  to  her  pride, 
she  even  determined  to  meet  Mrs.  Dugald  in  the  drawing  room 
and  at  the  table  without  demur ;  since  she  could  treat  her  as  the 
widow  of  the  Honorable  Kenneth  Dugald  without  openly  com 
promising  her  own  dignity.  Finally  she  concluded  to  meet 
Lord  Vincent's  treacherous  courtesy  with  assumed  civility. 


CLAUDIA'S  TROUBLES  AND  PEEILS.  133 

On  the  third  day  Lady  Vincent  felt  well  enough  to  join  the 
viscount  and  Mrs.  Dugald  at  breakfast.  Pursuant  to  her  reso 
lution  she  received  their  congratulations  with  smiles,  and 
answered  their  inquiries  as  to  her  health  with  thanks. 

It  was  a  foggy,  misty,  drizzly  day  the  precursor  of  a  long 
spell  of  dark  and  gloomy  weather,  that  Claudia  at  length  grew 
to  fear  would  never  come  to  an  end. 

During  this  time  the  monotony  of  Claudia's  life  at  the  castle 
was  really  dreadful. 

And  this  was  something  like  it:  She  would  wake  about 
seven  o'clock,  but  knowing  that  it  was  hours  too  early  to  rise 
in  that  house,  she  would  lie  and  think  until  she  was  ready  to 
go  mad.  At  nine  o'clock  she  would  ring  for  her  maid,  Sally, 
and  spend  an  hour  in  dawdling  over  her  toilet.  At  ten  she 
would  go  down  to  breakfast — a  miserable,  uncomfortable  meal 
of  hollow  civility  or  sullen  silence.  After  breakfast  she  would 
go  into  the  library  and  hunt  among  the  old,  musty,  worm-eaten 
books  for  something  readable,  but  without  success. 

Then,  ready  to  kill  herself  from  weariness  of  life,  she  would 
wrap  up  in  cloak  and  hood  and  climb  the  turret  stairs  and  go 
out  upon  the  ramparts  of  the  castle  and  walk  up  and  down 
with  the  drizzling  mist  above  and  around  her  and  the  thunder 
ing  sea  beneath  her — up  and  down — hour  after  hour — up  and 
down — lashing  herself  into  such  excitement  that  she  would  be 
tempted  to  throw  herself  from  the  battlements,  to  be  crushed 
to  death  by  the  rocks  or  swallowed  up  by  the  waves  below. 

At  length,  as  fearing  to  trust  heirself  with  this  temptation, 
she  would  descend  into  the  castle  again,  and  go  to  her  own 
rooms,  and  try  to  interest  herself  in  a  little  needle-work,  a  little 
writing,  a  talk  with  Katie  or  with  Mrs.  Murdock. 

At  last  the  creeping  hours  would  bring  luncheon,  when  the 
same  inharmonious  party  would  assemble  around  the  same 
ungenial  table,  and  eat  and  drink  without  enjoyment  or  grati 
tude. 

After  that  she  would  lie  down  and  try  to  sleep,  and  then 
write  a  letter  home,  do  a  little  embroidery,  yawn,  weep,  wish 
herself  dead,  and  wonder  how  soon  she  would  hear  from  her 
father. 

The  dragging  hours  would  at  length  draw  on  the  late  dinner, 
when  she  would  make  an  elaborate  toilet,  just  for  pastime,  and 
go  to  dinner,  which  always  seemed  like  a  funeral  feast.  Here 
Claudia  formed  the  habit  of  drinking  much  more  wine  than 


134        SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

was  good  for  her:  and  she  did  it  to  blunt  her  sensibility;  to 
obtund  the  sharpness  of  her  heartache;  to  give  her  sleep. 

After  dinner  they  would  go  into  the  drawing  room,  where 
coffee  would  be  served.  And  after  that,  if  Mrs.  Dugald  were 
in  the  humor,  there  would  be  music.  And  then  the  party  would 
disperse.  Claudia  would  go  into  her  own  room  and  pass  a  long, 
lonely,  wretched  evening,  sometimes  speculating  on  life,  death, 
and  immortality,  and  wondering  whether,  in  the  event  of  her 
deciding  to  walk  out  of  this  world  with  which  she  was  so  much 
dissatisfied,  into  the  other  of  which  she  knew  nothing,  she 
would  be  any  better  off. 

At  eleven  o'clock  she  always  rang  for  wine  and  biscuits,  and 
drank  enough  to  make  her  sleep.  Then  she  would  go  to  bed, 
sink  into  a  heavy,  feverish  sleep,  that  would  last  until  the  morn 
ing,  when  she  would  awake  with  a  headache,  as  well  as  a  heart 
ache,  to  pass  just  such  a  day  as  the  preceding  one. 

Such  were  Claudia's  days  and  nights.  Ah !  how  different  to 
those  she  had  pictured  when  she  sold  herself  and  her  fortune 
for  rank  and  title. 

Her  days  were  all  so  much  alike  that  they  could  only  be 
distinguished  by  the  change  in  her  dinner  dress,  and  the  differ 
ence  in  the  bill  of  fare. 

"  It  is  maize-colored  moire  antique  and  mutton  one  day  and 
violet-colored  velvet  and  veal  another ;  that  is  all !  "  wrote  Clau 
dia  in  one  of  her  letters  home. 

That  was  all!  The  same  leaden  sky  overhung  the  land  and 
sea ;  the  same  fine,  penetrating  mist  drizzled  slowly  down  and 
sifted  like  snow  into  everything;  the  same  stupid  routine  of 
sleeping,  walking,  dressing,  eating,  drinking,  undressing,  and 
sleeping  again,  occupied  the  household. 

No  visitors  ever  came  to  the  house,  and  of  course  Claudia 
went  nowhere.  She  was  unspeakably  miserable,  and  would  have 
wished  for  death,  had  she  not  been  a  firm  believer  in  future 
retribution. 

"Misery  loves  company,"  it  is  said.  There  was  one  inmate 
in  this  unblessed  house  who  seemed  quite  as  miserable  as  Clau 
dia  herself.  This  was  one  of  the  housemaids ;  the  one  who  had 
charge  of  Claudia's  own  rooms.  Lady  Vincent  had  noticed 
this  poor  girl,  and  had  observed  that  she  was  pale,  thin,  sad, 
always  with  red  eyes,  and  often  in  tears.  Once  she  inquired 
kindly : 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  you,  Ailsie  ? " 


CLAUDIA'S  TROUBLES  ATTD  PERILS.  135 

"  It's  just  naething,  me  leddy,"  was  the  weeping  girl's  answer. 

"But  I  am  sure  it  is  something.  Caii  you  not  tell  me? 
What  is  it  troubles  you  ? " 

"  Just  naething,  me  leddy,"  was  still  the  answer. 

"  Are  you  away  from  all  your  friends  ?    Are  you  homesick  t " 

"  I  ha'e  naebody  belanging  to  me,  me  leddy." 

"  You  are  an  orphan  ?  " 

*  Aye,  me  leddy." 

"  Then  you  must  really  tell  me  what  is  the  matter  with  you, 
my  poor  child;  I  will  help  you  if  I  can." 

"Indeed  I  canna  tell  you,  my  leddy.  Your  leddyship  maun 
please  to  forgi'e  me,  and  not  mind  me  greeting.  It's  just  nae 
thing;  it's  ony  a  way  I  ha'a" 

And  this  was  all  that  Claudia  could  get  out  of  this  poor  girl. 

Once  she  inquired  of  Mrs.  Murdock :  "  What  ails  Ailsie 
Dunbar?  Her  looks  trouble  me," 

"Indeed,  me  leddy,  I  dinna  ken.  The  lassie  is  greeting  fra 
morning  till  night,  and  will  na  gie  onybody  ony  satisfaction 
about  it!  But  I  will  try  to  find  out."  And  that  was  all  Lady 
Vincent  could  get  out  of  the  housekeeper. 

The  month  of  November  crept  slowly  by.  And  December 
came,  darker,  duller,  drearier  than  its  predecessor.  And  now 
anxiety  was  added  to  Claudia's  other  troubles.  She  had  not 
heard  from  her  father. 

The  monotony,  deepened  by  suspense,  grew  horrible.  She 
wished  for  an  earthquake,  or  an  inundation — anything  to 
break  the  dreadful  spell  that  bound  her,  to  burst  the  tomb  of 
her  buried  life  and  let  in  air  and  light. 

Sometimes  she  overheard  the  precious  pair  of  friends  who 
shared  her  home  murmuring  their  sinful  nonsense  together; 
and  she  was  disgusted. 

And  sometimes  she  heard  them  in  angry  and  jealous  alterca 
tion;  and  she  grew  insane,  and  wished  from  the  bottom  of  her 
heart  that  one  might  murder  the  other,  if  it  were  only  to  break 
the  horrible  monotony  of  the  castle  life,  by  bringing  into  tt 
the  rabble  rout  of  inspectors,  constables,  coroners,  and  juries. 
At  length  there  came  a  day  when  that  frenzied  wish  was 
gratified. 


136  SELF-EAISED;   OK,    FROM   THE   DEPTHS, 

CHAPTER  XX. 
A  LINK  IN  CLAUDIA'S  FATE. 

For  who  knew,  she  thought,  what  the  nmazemeatj 

The  irruption  of  clatter  and  blaze  meant. 

And  if,  in  this  minute  of  wonder, 

"No  outlet  'mid  lightning  and  thunder, 

Lay  broad  and  her  shackles  all  shivered, 

The  captive  at  length  was  delivered? 

— Robert  Browning. 

Claudia  had  awakened  one  morning  with  one  of  those  ner 
vous  headaches  that  were  becoming  habitual  to  her.  She  had 
taken  a  narcotic  sedative  and  gone  to  sleep  again,  and  slept 
throughout  the  day. 

It  was  night  when  she  awoke  again,  and  became  immediately 
conscious  of  an  unusual  commotion  in  the  castle — a  commotion 
that  reached  her  ears,  even  over  the  thick  drugget  with  which 
the  stairs  and  halls  were  covered,  and  through  the  strong  doors 
and  heavy  hangings  with  which  her  chamber  was  protected. 
Whether  it  was  this  disturbance  that  had  broken  her  rest,  she 
did  not  really  know.  She  listened  intently.  There  was  a  swift 
and  heavy  running  to  and  fro,  and  a  confusion  of  tongues,  giv 
ing  voices  in  mingled  tones  of  fear,  grief,  rage,  consternation., 
expostulation,  and  every  key  of  passionate  emotion  and  excite 
ment. 

Lady  Vincent  reached  forth  her  hand  and  rang  the  bell,  and 
then  listened,  but  no  one  answered  it.  She  rang  again,  with 
no  better  success.  After  waiting  some  little  time  she  rang  a 
violent  peal,  that  presently  brought  the  housekeeper  hurrying 
into  the  room,  pale  as  death,  and  nearly  out  of  breath. 

"  Mrs.  Murdock,  I  have  rung  three  times.  I  have  never  be 
fore  had  occasion  to  ring  twice  for  attendance,"  said  Lady  Vin 
cent,  in  a  displeased  tone. 

"  Ou,  me  leddy,  ye  will  e'en  f&rgi'e  me  this  ance,  when  ye 
come  to  hear  the  cause,"  panted  the  housekeeper. 

"  What  has  happened  ?  "  demanded  Claudia. 

"  Ou,  mo  leddy !  sic  an'  awfu'  event." 

"What  is  it,  then?" 

"  Just  murther — no  less !  " 

"  Murder ! "  exclaimed  Claudia,  starting  up  and  gazing  at 
the  speaker  with  horror-distended  eyes. 


A  LINK  IN  CLAUDIA'S  FATE.  137 

"  Just  murther ! "  gasped  the  housekeeper,  sinking  down  in 
the  armchair  beside  her  lady's  bed,  because  in  truth  her  limbs 
gave  way  beneath  her. 

"  Who  ?  what  ?    For  Heaven's  sake,  speak !  " 

"  The  puir  bit  lassie "  began  the  dame ;  but  her  voice 

failed,  and  she  covered  her  face  with  her  apron  and  began  to 
howl. 

Claudia  gazed  at  her  in  consternation  and  horror  for  a 
minute,  and  then  again  demanded: 

"  What  lassie  ?  Who  is  murdered  ?  For  the  Lord's  sake 
try  to  answer  me !  " 

"  Puir  Ailsie !  puir  wee  bit  lassie !  "  wailed  the  woman. 

"  Ailsie !  what  has  happened  to  her  ? "  demanded  Lady  Vin 
cent,  bewildered  with  panic. 

"  She's  found  murthered !  "  howled  the  housekeeper. 

"  Ailsie !  Heaven  of  heavens,  no !  "  cried  Claudia,  wound  up 
to  a  pitch  of  frenzied  excitement. 

"  Aye  is  she ;  found  lying  outside  the  castle  wall,  wi'  her  puir 
throat  cut  f ra  ear  to  ear !  "  shrieked  the  dame,  covering  up  her 
face  to  smother  the  cries  she  could  not  suppress. 

"  Mercy  of  Heaven,  how  horrible ! "  exclaimed  Lady  Vincent, 
throwing  her  hands  up  to  her  face,  and  falling  back  on  her  pil 
low. 

"  Puir  Ailsie !  puir,  bonnie  lassie !  "  howled  the  dame,  rocking 
her  body  to  and  fro. 

"  Who  did  it? "  gasped  Claudia,  under  her  breath. 

"  Ah !  that's  what  we  canna  come  at ;  iiaebody  kens." 

"I  cannot  rest  here  any  longer.  Ring  the  bell,  Mrs.  Mur- 
dock,  and  hand  me  my  dressing  gown.  I  must  get  up  and  go 
downstairs.  Good  Heavens!  a  poor,  innocent  girl  murdered  in 
this  house,  and  her  murderer  allowed  to  escape !  "  exclaimed 
Claudia,  throwing  the  bed-clothes  off  her  and  rising  in  irre 
pressible  excitement. 

"  Ah,  me  leddy,  I  fear,  I  greatly  fear,  she  was  no  that  inno 
cent  as  your  leddyship  thinks,  puir  bairn!  Nae  that  I  would 
say  onything  about  it,  only  it's  weel  kenned  noo.  Puir  Ailsie! 
she  lost  her  innocence  before  she  lost  her  life,  me  leddy.  And 
I  greatly  misdoubt,  he  that  reft  her  of  the  ane  reft  her  of  the 
ither ! "  sobbed  the  dame,  as  she  assisted  Claudia  to  put  on  her 
crimson  silk  dressing  gown. 

"  Now  give  me  a  shawl ;  I  must  go  below." 

"Kay,  nay,  me  leddy,  dinna  gang!     It's  awfu'  wark  doon 


138        SELF- RAISED;  OR,  ITOOM  THE  DEPTHS. 

there.  They've  brought  her  in,  and  laid  her  on  the  ha'  table, 
and  a'  the  constables  and  laborers  are  there,  forbye  the  servants. 
It's  nae  place  for  you,  me  leddy.  Your  leddyship  could  na 
stand  it." 

"  Anyone  who  has  stood  six  weeks  of  the  ordinary  life  in 
this  house  can  stand  anything  else  under  the  sun!"  exclaimed 
Claudia,  wrapping  herself  in  the  large  India  shawl  that  was 
handed  her,  and  hurrying  downstairs. 

She  was  met  by  old  Katie,  who  was  on  her  way  to  answer  the 
bell  that  had  been  rung  for  her,  and  who,  as  soon  as  she  saw  her 
mistress,  raised  both  her  hands  in  deprecation,  and  in  her  terror 
began  to  speak  as  if  Lady  Vincent  were  still  a  child  and  she  was 
still  her  nurse  and  keeper: 

"Now,  Miss  Claudia,  honey,  you  jes'  go  right  straight  back 
ag'in !  Dis  aint  no  place  for  sich  as  you,  chile.  You  mustn't 
go  down  dar  and  look  at  dat  gashly  objeck,  honey.  'Cause  no 
tellin'  what  de  quoncequinces  mightn't  be.  Now  mind  what 
your  ole  Aunt  Katie  say  to  you,  honey,  and  turn  back  like  a 
good  chile." 

While  old  Katie  was  coaxing  her  Lady  Vincent  was  looking 
over  the  balustrade  down  into  the  hall  below,  which  was  filled  to 
suffocation  with  a  motley  crowd,  who  were  pressing  around  some 
object  extended  upon  the  table,  and  which  Claudia  could  only 
make  out  in  the  obscurity  by  the  gleam  of  the  white  cloth  with 
which  it  was  covered. 

Without  stopping  to  answer  old  Katie,  she  pushed  her  aside 
and  hurried  below. 

The  crowd  had  done  with  loud  talking  and  an  awe-struck 
silence  prevailed,  broken  only  now  and  then  by  a  half -suppressed 
murmur  of  fear  or  horror. 

'  Forgetting  her  fastidiousness  for  once,  Lady  Vincent  pushed 
her  way  through  this  crowd  of  "  unwashed  "  workmen,  whose 
greasy,  dusty,  and  begrimed  clothes  soiled  her  bright,  rich  rai 
ment  as  she  passed,  and  among  whom  the  mingled  fumes  of 
tobacco,  whisky,  garlic,  and  coal-smoke  formed  "  the  rankest 
compound  of  villainous  smells  that  ever  offended  nostrils." 

Claudia  did  not  mind  all  this.  She  pressed  on,  and  they  gave 
way  for  her  a  little  as  she  approached  the  table.  Three  con 
stables  stood  around  it  to  guard  the  dead  body  from  the  touch 
of  meddlesome  hands.  On  seeing  Lady  Vincent  with  the  air  of 
one  having  authority,  the  constable  that  guarded  the  head  of  the 
table  guessed  at  her  rank,  and  officiously  turned  down  the  white 


A  LINK  IN  CLAUDIA'S  FATE. 

sheet  that  covered  the  dead  body,  and  revealed  the  horrible  ob 
ject  beneath — the  ghastly  face  fallen  back,  with  its-chin  dropped, 
and  its  mouth  and  eyes  wide  open  and  rigid  in  death;  and  the 
gaping  red  wound  across  the  throat  cut  so  deep  that  it  nearly 
severed  the  head  from  the  body.  With  a  suppressed  shriek 
Claudia  clapped  her  hands  to  her  face  to  shut  out  the  awful 
sight. 

At  the  same  moment  she  felt  her  arm  grasped  by  a  firm 
band,  and  her  name  called  in  a  stern  voice:  "Lady  Vincent, 
why  are  you  here  ?  Eetire  at  once  to  your  chamber." 

Claudia,  too  much  overcome  with  horror  to  dispute  the  point, 
suffered  the  viscount  to  draw  her  out  of  the  crowd  to  the  foot 
of  the  stairs.  Here  she  recovered  herself  sufficiently  to  inquire : 

"  What  has  been  done,  my  lord  ?  What  steps  have  been  taken 
towards  the  discovery  and  arrest  of  this  poor  girl's  murderer  ?  " 

"  All  that  is  possible  has  been  done,  or  is  doing.  The  coroner 
has  been  summoned;  the  inspector  has  been  sent  for;  a  tele 
gram  has  been  dispatched  to  Scotland  Yard  in  London  for  an 
experienced  detective.  Rest  easy,  Lady  Vincent.  Here,  Mis 
tress  Gorilla !  Attend  your  lady  to  her  apartment." 

This  last  order  was  addressed  to  Katie,  who  was  still  linger 
ing  on  the  stairs,  and  who  was  glad  to  receive  this  charge  from 
Lord  Vincent. 

"  Come  along,  Miss  Claudia,  honey,"  she  said,  as  soon  as  the 
viscount  had  left  them;  "come  along.  We  can't  do  no  good, 
not  by  staying  here  no  longer.  My  lordship  was  right  dar. 
Dough  why  he  do  keep  on  a-calling  of  me  Mrs.  Gorilla  is 
more'n  I  can  'count  for.  Not  dat  I  objects  to  de  name;  'cause 
I  do  like  the  name.  I  think's  it  a  perty  name,  sweet 
perty  name,  so  soft  and  musicky;  only  you  see,  chile, 
it  aint  n»ine;  and  I  can't  think  what  could  put  it  in  my  lord 
ship's  head  to  think  it  was." 

Lady  Vincent  paid  no  attention  to  the  innocent  twaddle  of 
poor  old  Katie,  though  at  a  less  horrible  moment  it  might 
have  served  to  amuse  her.  She  hurried  as  fast  as  her  agitation 
would  permit  her  from  the  scene  of  the  dreadful  tragedy,  un 
conscious  how  closely  this  poor  murdered  girl's  fate  would  be 
connected  with  her  own  future  destiny.  She  gained  the  shelter 
of  her  own  apartments  and  shut  herself  up  there,  while  the  in 
vestigations  into  the  murder  proceeded. 

It  is  not  necessary  for  us  to  go  deeply  into  the  revolting  de 
tails  of  the  events  that  followed.  The  coroner  arrived  the  same 


SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

evening,  impaneled  his  jury  and  commenced  the  inquest.  Soon 
after  the  inspector  came  from  Banff.  And  the  next  morning  a 
skillful  detective  arrived  from  London.  And  the  investigation 
commenced  in  earnest.  Many  witnesses  were  examined;  ex 
tensive  searches  were  made,  and  all  measures  taken  to  find  out 
some  clew  to  the  murderer,  but  in  vain.  The  police  held  pos 
session  of  the  premises  for  nearly  a  week,  and  the  coroner's  jury 
sat  day  after  day ;  but  all  to  no  purpose,  as  far  as  the  discovery 
of  the  perpetrator  of  the  crime  was  concerned.  This  seemed 
one  of  the  obstinate  murders  that,  in  spite  of  the  old  proverb 
to  the  contrary,  will  not  "  out." 

On  Saturday  night  the  baffled  coroner's  jury  returned  their 
unsatisfactory  verdict :  "  The  deceased,  Ailsie  Dunbar,  came 
to  her  death  by  a  wound  inflicted  in  her  throat  with  a  razor 
held  in  the  hands  of  some  person  unknown  to  the  jury." 

And  the  house  was  rid  of  coroner,  jury,  inspector,  detective, 
country  constables  and  all;  and  the  poor  girl's  body  was  per 
mitted  to  be  laid  in  the  earth;  and  the  household  breathed 
freely  again. 

The  same  evening  Lord  Vincent,  being  alone  in  his  dressing 
room,  rang  his  bell;  and  his  valet  as  usual  answered  it. 

"  Come  in  here,  Frisbie.  Shut  the  door  after  you,  and  stand 
before  me,"  said  his  lordship. 

"  Yes,  my  lord,"  answered  the  servant,  securing  the  door 
and  standing  before  his  master. 

Lord  Vincent  sat  with  his  back  to  the  window  and  his  face 
in  the  shadow,  while  the  light  from  the  window  fell  full  on  the 
face  of  the  valet,  who  stood  before  him.  This  was  a  position 
Lord  Vincent  always  managed  to  secure,  \»hen  he  wished  to 
read  the  countenance  of  his  interlocutor,  without  exposing  his 
own. 

"Well,  Frisbie,  they  are  gone,"  said  his  lordship,  looking 
wistfully  into  the  face  of  his  servant. 

"  Yes,  my  lord,"  replied  the  latter,  looking  down. 

"  And — without  discovering  the  murderer  of  Ailsie  Dunbar," 
he  continued,  in  a  meaning  voice. 

"  Yes,  my  lord,"  replied  the  valet,  with  the  slightest  possible 
quaver  in  his  tone. 

"  That  must  be  a  very  great  relief  to  your  feelings,  Frisbie," 
said  the  viscount. 

"I — have  not  the  honor  to  understand  your  lordship,"  fal« 
iered  Frisbie,  changing  color. 


A  LINK  ITT  CLAUDIA'S  FATE.  141 

*  Haven't  you  ?  Why,  that  is  strange !  My  meaning  is  clear 
enough.  I  say  it  must  be  a  very  great  relief  to  your  feel 
ings,  Frisbie,  to  have  the  inquest  so  well  over,  and  all  the  law- 
officers  out  of  the  house.  You  must  have  endured  agonies  of 
terror  while  they  were  here.  I  know  I  should  in  your  place. 
Why,  I  expected  every  day  that  you  would  bolt,  though  that 
would  have  been  the  worst  thing  you  could  possibly  have  done, 
too,  for  it  would  have  been  sure  to  direct  suspicion  towards 
you,  and  you  would  have  been  certain  to  be  recaptured  before 
you  could  have  got  out  of  England,"  said  Lord  Vincent 
coolly. 

"I — I — my  lord — I  have  not  the  honor — to — to — under " 

began  the  man,  but  his  teeth  chattered  so  that  he  could  not 
enunciate  another  syllable. 

"  Oh,  yes !  you  have  the  honor,  if  you  consider  it  such.  You 
understand  me  well  enough.  What  is  the  use  of  attempting  to 
deceive  me?  Frisbie,  I  was  an  eye-witness  to  the  death  of 
Ailsie  Dunbar,"  said  his  lordship  emphatically,  and  fixing  his 
eyes  firmly  upon  the  face  of  his  valet. 

Down  fell  the  wretch  upon  his  knees,  with  his  hands  clasped, 
his  face  blanched,  and  his  teeth  chattering. 

"  Oh,  my  lord,  mercy,  mercy !  It  was  unpremeditated,  in 
deed  it  was !  it  was  an  accident !  it  was  done  in  the  heat  of  pas 
sion!  and — and — she  did  it  herself!"  gasped  the  wretch,  so  be 
side  himself  with  fright  that  he  did  not  clearly  know  what  he 
was  talking  about. 

"Frisbie,  stop  lying.  Did  it  herself,  eh?  I  saw  you  do  the 
deed.  The  razor  was  in  your  hands.  She  struggled  and 
begged,  poor  creature,  and  cut  her  poor  hands  in  her  efforts 
to  save  her  throat;  but  you  completed  your  purpose  effectually 
before  I  could  appear  and  prevent  you  from  murdering  her. 
Then  I  kept  your  secret,  since  no  good  could  have  come  of  my 
telling  it." 

"  Mercy,  mercy,  my  lord !  indeed  it  was  unpremeditated !  It 
was  done  in  the  heat  of  passion.  She  had  driven  me  mad  with 
jealousy ! " 

"  Bosh !  what  do  you  suppose  I  care  whether  you  committed 
the  crime  in  hot  blood  or  cold  blood?  whether  it  was  the  result 
of  a  momentary  burst  of  frenzy  or  of  a  long  premeditated  and 
carefully  arranged  plan?  It  is  enough  for  me  to  know  that  I 
saw  you  do  the  deed.  You  murdered  that  girl,  and  if  the  coro 
ner's  jury  had  not  been  just  about  the  stupidest  lot  of  donkeys 


142         SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

that  ever  undertook  to  sit  on  a  case,  you  would  be  now  in  jail 
waiting  your  trial  for  murder  before  the  next  assizes." 

"  Mercy,  mercy,  my  lord !     I  am  in  your  power !  " 

"Hold  your  tongue  and  get  up  off  your  knees  and  listen  to 
me,  you  cowardly  knave.  Don't  you  know  that  if  I  had  wished 
to  hang  you  I  could  have  done  so  by  lodging  information 
against  you?  Nonsense!  I  don't  want  to  hang  you.  I  think, 
with  the  Quaker,  that  hanging  is  the  worst  use  you  can  put  a 
man  to.  Now,  I  don't  want  to  put  you  to  that  use.  I  have 
other  uses  for  you.  Get  up,  you  precious  knave !  " 

"  Oh,  my  lord !  put  me  to  any  use  your  lordship  wishes,  and 
no  matter  what  it  is,  I  will  serve  you  faithfully  in  it ! "  said  the 
wretch,  rising  from  his  knees  and  standing  in  a  cowed  and 
deprecating  manner  before  his  master. 

"  It  is  perfectly  clear  to  me,  Frisbie,  that  you  settled  that  girl 
to  silence  a  troublesome  claimant  of  whom  you  could  not  rid 
yourself  in  any  other  way." 

"  Your  lordship  knows  everything.  It  was  so,  my  lord.  She 
was  all  the  time  bothering  me  about  broken  promises  and  all 
that." 

"  And  so  you  settled  all  her  claims  by  one  blow.  Well, 
you  have  got  rid  of  the  woman  that  troubled  you;  and  now  I 
mean  that  you  shall  help  me  to  get  rid  of  one  who  troubles 
me." 

"  In — in — in  the  same  manner,  my  lord  ?  "  gasped  the  man,  In 
an  accession  of  deadly  terror. 

"  No,  you  insupportable  fool !  I  am  not  a  master  butcher,  to 
give  you  such  an  order  as  that.  Noblemen  are  not  cut-throats, 
you  knave!  You  shall  rid  me  of  my  troublesome  woman  in  a 
safer  way  than  that.  And  you  shall  do  it  as  the  price  of  my 
silence  as  to  your  own  little  affair." 

"  I  am  your  lordship's  obedient,  humble  servant.  Your  lord 
ship  will  do  what  you  please  with  me.  I  am  absolutely  and  un 
reservedly  at  your  lordship's  disposal,"  whined  the  criminal. 

"Well,  I  should  think  you  were,. when  I  hold  one  end  of  a 
rope  of  which  the  other  end  is  around  your  neck.  Come  closer 
and  stoop  down  until  you  bring  your  ear  to  a  level  with  my 
lips,  for  I  must  speak  low,"  said  his  lordship. 

The  man  obeyed. 

And  Lord  Vincent  confided  to  his  confederate  a  plan  against 
the  peace  and  honor  of  his  viscountess  of  so  detestable  and  re 
volting  a  nature  that  even  this  ruthless  assassin  shrunk  in 


A  LINK  IN  CLAUDIA'S  FATE.  143 

loathing  and  disgust  from  the  thought  of  becoming  a  partici 
pator  in  it.  But  he  was,  as  he  had  said,  absolutely  and  unre 
servedly  at  the  disposal  of  Lord  Vincent,  who  held  one  end  of 
the  rope  of  which  the  other  was  around  his  own  neck,  and  so  he 
ended  in  becoming  the  confederate  and  instrument  of  the 
viscount. 

When  this  was  all  arranged  Lord  Vincent  dismissed  the  valet 
with  the  words: 

"  Now  be  at  ease,  Frisbie ;  for  as  long  as  you  are  faithful  to 
me  I  will  be  silent  in  regard  to  you." 

And  as  the  second  dinner-bell  had  rung  some  little  time  be 
fore,  Lord  Vincent  stepped  before  the  glass,  brushed  his  hair, 
and  went  downstairs. 

As  soon  as  he  had  left  the  room  another  person  appeared 
upon  the  scene.  Old  Katie  came  out  from  the  thick  folds  of  a 
window  curtain  and  stood  in  the  center  of  the  room  with  up 
lifted  hands  and  up-rolled  eyes,  and  an  expression  of  counte 
nance  indescribable  by  any  word  in  our  language. 

For  more  than  a  minute,  perhaps  while  one  could  slowly 
count  a  hundred,  she  stood  thus.  And  then,  dropping  her 
hands  and  lowering  her  eyes,  she  walked  soberly  up  to  Lord 
Vincent's  tall  dressing-glass,  plucked  the  parti-colored  turban 
off  her  head  and  looked  at  herself,  muttering: 

"  No !  it  aint  white,  nor  likewise  gray !  dough  I  did  think, 
when  dat  creeping  coldness  come  stealing  through  to  roots  of 
my  h'ar,  when  I  heerd  dem  wilyuns  at  deir  deblish  plot,  as  ebery 
libbing  ha'r  on  my  head  was  turned  on  a  suddint  white  as  snow ; 
as  I've  heerd  tell  of  happening  to  people  long  o'  fright.  But 
dar !  my  ha'r  is  as  good  as  new,  dough  it  has  had  enough  to 
turn  it  gray  on  a  suddint  in  dis  las'  hour!  Well,  laws!  I  do 
think  as  Marse  Ishmael  Worth  mus'  be  somefin  of  a  prophet, 
as  well  as  a  good  deal  of  a  lawyer!  He  telled  me  to  watch 
ober  de  peace  and  honor  of  Lady  Vincent.  Yes,  dem  was  his 
berry  words — peace  and  honor.  Well,  laws !  little  did  I  think 
how  much  dey  would  want  watching  ober.  Anyways,  I've  kep* 
my  word  and  done  my  duty.  And  I've  found  out  somefin  as  all 
de  crowners,  and  constables  and  law-fellows  couldn't  find  out 
wid  all  deir  larnin'.  And  dat  is  who  kilt  poor  misfortunate 
Miss  Ailsie,  poor  gal!  And  I've  found  out  somefin  worse  'an 
dat,  dough  people  might  think  there  couldn't  be  nothing  worse; 
but  deir  is.  And  dat  is  dis  deblish  plot  agin  my  ladyship.  Oh, 
dem  debils !  Hanging  is  too  good  for  my  lordship  and  hi* 


144        SELF-RAISED;  OK,  FEOM  THE  DEPTHS. 

wally — wally  sham!  but  it's  all  de  same.  And  now  I  go  right 
straight  and  tell  my  ladyship  all  about  it,"  said  Katie,  settling 
her  turban  on  her  head  and  hurrying  from  the  room. 

She  met  Lady  Vincent,  elegantly  dressed  in  a  rose-colored 
brocade  and  adorned  with  pearls,  on  her  way  to  the  dinner- 
table. 

,  "Oh,  my  ladyship,  I've  found  out  someSn  dreadful!  I  must 
jtell  you  all  about  it!"  she  exclaimed,  in  excitement,  as  she 
stopped  her  mistress. 

"Not  now,  Katie.  Dinner  is  waiting.  Go  into  my  dressing 
room  and  stop  there  until  I  come.  I  will  not  stay  long  in  the 
drawing  room  this  evening,"  said  Lady  Vincent,  who  thought 
that  Katie's  news  would  prove  to  be  only  some  fresh  rumors 
concerning  the  murder  of  poor  Ailsie. 

"My  ladyship,  you  had  better  stop  now  and  hear  me," 
pleaded  the  old  woman. 

"I  tell  you  dinner  is  waiting,  Katie,"  said  Lady  Vincent, 
hurrying  past  her. 

Ah!  she  had  better  have  stopped  then,  if  she  had  only  known 
it.  Old  Katie  groaned  in  the  spirit  and  went  to  the  dressing 
room  as  she  was  bid. 

She  sat  down  before  the  fire  and  looked  at  the  clock  on  the 
chimney  piece.  It  was  just  seven. 

"Dat  funnelly  dinner  will  keep  my  ladyship  an  hour  at  the 
very  latest  bit.  It  will  be  eight  o'clock  afore  she  comes  back, 
Laws-a-massy,  what  shall  I  da?"  grunted  the  old  woman  im 
patiently. 

Slowly,  slowly,  passed  that  hour  of  waiting.  The  clock 
struck  eight. 

"She'll  be  here  every  minute  now,"  said  old  Katie,  with  a 
sigh  of  relief. 

But  minute  after  minute  passed  and  Claudia  did  not  come. 
A  half  an  hour  slipped  away.  Old  Katie  in  her  impatience 
got  up  and  walked  about  the  room.  She  heard  tho  rustle  of 
pilken  drapery,  and  peeped  out.  It  was  only  Mrs.  Dugald,  in 
her  rich  white  brocade  dress,  passing  into  her  own  apartments. 

¥  Nasty,  wenemous,  pison  sarpint !  I'll  fix  you  out  yet !  '* 
muttered  old  Katie  between  her  teeth,  with  a  perfectly  dia 
bolical  expression  of  countenance,  as  she  shook  her  head  at  the 
vanishing  figure  of  the  beauty;  for  that  was  the  unlucky  way 
in  which  poor  Katie's  black  phiz  expressed  righteous  indigna 
tion. 


A  LINK  IN  CLAUDIA'S  FATE.  145 

•*I  do  wonder  what  has  become  of  my  ladyship.  This  is  a- 
keeping  of  her  word  like  a  ladyship  oughter,  aint  it  now?  I 
go  and  look  for  her,"  said  Katie. 

But  just  as  she  had  opened  the  door  for  that  purpose  her 
eyes  fell  upon  the  figure  of  the  visco  ant,  creeping  with  stealthy, 
silent,  cat-like  steps  towards  the  apartments  of  Mrs.  Dugald, 
in  which  he  disappeared. 

"  Ah  ha !  dat's  somefin'  else.  Somefin'  goin'  on  in  dere. 
Well,  if  I  don't  ax  myself  to  dat  party,  my  name's  not  old  Aunt 
Katie  Mortimer,  dat's  all !  "  said  the  old  woman  in  glee,  as  she 
cautiously  stole  from  the  room  and  approached  the  door  lead 
ing  into  Mrs.  Dugald's  apartments. 

When  at  the  door,  which  was  ajar,  she  peeped  in.  The  suite 
was  arranged  upon  the  same  plan  as  Lady  Vincent's  own.  As 
Katie  peered  in,  she  saw  through  the  vista  of  three  rooms  into 
the  dressing  room,  which  was  the  last  of  the  suite.  Before  the 
dressing-room  fire  she  saw  the  viscount  and  Mrs.  Dugald  stand 
ing,  their  faces  towards  the  fire;  their  backs  towards  Katie. 

She  cautiously  opened  the  door  and  stepped  in,  closing  it 
silently  behind  her.  Then  she  crept  through  the  intervening 
rooms  and  reached  the  door  of  the  dressing  room,  which  was 
draped  around  with  heavy  velvet  hangings,  and  she  concealed 
herself  in  their  folds,  where  she  could  see  and  hear  everything 
that  passed. 

"  How  long  is  this  to  go  on  ?  Do  you  know  that  the  presence 
of  my  rival  maddens  me  every  hour  of  the  day?  Are  you  not 
afraid — you  would  be,  if  you  knew  me ! — that  I  should  do  some 
desperate  deed?  I  tell  you  that  I  am  afraid  of  myself!  I  can 
not  always  restrain  my  impulses,  Malcolm.  There  are  mo 
ments  when  I  doubt  whether  you  are  not  playing  me  false. 
And  at  such  times  I  am  in  danger  of  doing  some  desperate  deed 
that  will  make  England  ring  with  the  hearing  of  it,"  said  Mrsc 
Dugald,  with  passionate  earnestness. 

"Faustina,  you  know  that  I  adore  you.  Be  patient  a  few 
days  longer — a  very  few  days.  The  time  is  nearly  ripe.  I 
have  at  last  found  the  instrument  of  which  I  have  been  so 
much  in  need.  This  man,  Frisbie.  He  is  completely  in  my 
power,  and  will  be  a  ready  tool.  I  will  tell  you  the  whole 
scheme.  But  stop!  first  I  must  secure  this  interview  from  in 
terruption.  Not  a  word  of  this  communication  must  be  over 
heard  by  any  chance  listener,"  said  Lord  Vincent. 

And  to  poor  old  Katie's  consternation  he  passed  swiftly  to 


146         SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

the  outer  door  of  the  suite  of  rooms,  locked  it  and  put  the 
key  in  his  pocket  and  returned  to  the  dressing  room,  the  door 
of  which  remained  open. 

"Dere!  if  I  aint  cotch  like  an  old  rat  in  a  trap,  you  m?7 
take  my  hat!  Don't  care!  I  gwine  hear  all  dey  got  to  say. 
An'  if  dey  find  me  dey  can't  hang  me  for  it,  dat's  one  good 
thing!  And  maybe  dey  won't  find  me,  if  I  keep  still  till  my 
lordship — perty  lordship  he  is — unlocks  de  door  and  goes  out, 
and  den  I  slip  out  myself,  just  as  I  slipped  in,  and  nobody  none 
de  wiser.  Only  if  I  don't  sneeze.  I  feel  dreadful  like  sneezing. 
Nobody  ever  had  such  an  unlucky  nose  as  I  have  got.  Laws, 
laws,  if  I  was  to  sneeze ! "  thought  old  Katie  to  herself  as  she 
lurked  behind  the  draperies. 

But  soon  every  sense  was  absorbed  in  listening  to  the  vil 
lainous  plot  that  Lord  Vincent  was  unfolding  to  his  companion. 
It  was  the  very  same  plot  that  he  had  communicated  to  his 
valet,  the  atrocity  of  which  had  shocked  even  that  cut-throat. 
It  did  not  shock  Faustina,  however.  She  listened  with  avidity. 
She  co-operated  with  zeal.  She  suggested  such  modifications 
and  improvements  for  securing  the  success  of  the  conspiracy, 
and  the  safety  of  the  conspirators,  as  only  her  woman's  tact, 
inspired  by  the  demon,  could  invent. 

"  Oh,  the  she-sarpint !  the  deadly,  wenemous,  pisonous  sar- 
pint ! "  shuddered  Katie,  in  her  hiding-place.  "  I've  heern 
enough  this  night  to  hang  the  shamwally,  and  send  all  the 
rest  on  'em  to  Bottommy  Bay.  And  I'll  do  it,  too,  if  ever  I  live 
to  get  out'n  this  room  alive." 

But  at  that  instant  the  catastrophe  that  Katie  had  dreaded 
occurred.  Katie  sneezed — once,  twice,  thrice:  " Hick-ket-choo  1 
Hick-ket-choo !  Hick-ket-choo !  " 

Had  a  bombshell  exploded  in  that  room  it  could  not  have 
excited  a  greater  commotion.  Lord  Vincent  sprang  up,  and  in 
an  instant  had  the  eavesdropper  by  the  throat. 

"  Now,  you  old  devil,  what  have  you  got  to  say  for  yourself  ?  " 
demanded  the  viscount,  in  a  voice  of  repressed  fury,  as  he 
shook  Katie. 

"  I  say — Cuss  my  nose !  There  never  was  sich  a  misf ortunate 
nose  on  anybody's  face — a-squoking  out  dat  way  in  onseason- 
able  hours !  "  cried  Katie. 

"How  dare  you  be  caught  eavesdropping  in  these  rooms,  you 
wretch  ? "  demanded  the  viscount,  giving  her  another  shake. 

"And  why  wouldn't  I,  you  grand  vilyun?     And  you  hera 


A  LINK  IN  CLAUDIA'S  FATE.  147 

a-plotting  of  your  deblish  plots  agin  my  own  dear  babyship — 
I  mean  my  ladyship,  as  is  like  my  own  dear  baby!  And 
*  wretch'  yourself!  And  how  dare  you  lay  your  hands  on  me? 
on  me,  as  has  heern  enough  this  precious  night  to  send  you 
down  to  the  bottom  of  Bottommy  Bay,  to  work  in  de  mud,  wid 
a  chain  and  a  weight  to  your  leg,  you  rascal!  and  a  man  with 
a  whip  over  your  head,  you  vilyun!  'Stead  o'  standin'  dere 
sassin'  at  me,  you  ought  to  go  down  on  your  bare  knees,  and  beg 
and  pray  me  to  spare  you!  Dough  you  needn't,  neither,  'cause 
I  wouldn't  do  it !  no !  not  if  you  was  to  wallow  under  my  feet, 
I  wouldn't.  'Cause  soon  as  eber  I  gets  out'n  dis  room  I  gwine 
right  straight  to  de  queen  and  tell  her  all  about  it;  and  ax  her 
if  she's  de  mist'ess  of  England  and  lets  sich  goings  on  as  dese 
go  on  in  her  kingdom.  And  if  I  can't  get  speech  of  the  queen, 
I  going  to  tell  de  fust  magistet  I  can  find — dere!  And  you, 
too,  you  whited  salt-peter!  you  ought  dis  minute  to  be  pickin' 
of  oakum  in  a  crash  gown  and  cropped  hair !  And  you  shall  be, 
too,  afore  many  days,  ef  eber  I  lives  to  get  out'n  dis  house 
alive ! "  shrieked  Katie,  shaking  her  fist  first  at  one  culprit  and 
then  at  the  other,  and  glaring  inextinguishable  hatred  and  de 
fiance  upon  both.  For  righteous  wrath  had  rendered  her  per 
fectly  insensible  to  fear. 

Meanwhile  the  viscount  held  her  in  a  death-grip ;  his  face  was 
ghastly  pale;  his  teeth  tightly  clenched;  his  eyes  starting. 

"  Faustina,  she  is  as  ignorant  as  dirt,  but  her  threats  are  not 
vain.  If  she  leaves  this  room  alive  all  is  lost ! "  he  exclaimed, 
in  breathless  excitement. 

"  She  must  not  leave  it  alive !  "  said  the  fell  woman. 

Katie  heard  the  fatal  words,  and  opened  her  mouth  to 
scream  for  help.  But  the  fingers  of  the  viscount  tightened 
around  her  throat  and  strangled  the  scream  in  its  utterance. 
And  he  bore  her  down  to  the  floor  and  placed  his  knee  on  her 
chest.  And  there  was  murder  in  the  glare  with  which  he 
watched  her  death-throes. 

"  Faustina !  "  he  whispered  hoarsely,  "  help  me !  have  you 
nothing  to  shorten  this  ?  " 

She  flew  to  a  cabinet,  from  which  she  took  a  small  vial,  filled 
with  a  colorless  liquid,  and  brought  it  to  him. 

He  disengaged  one  hand  to  take  it,  and  then  stooped  over 
his  victim.  And  in  a  few  moments  Katie  ceased  to  struggle. 

Then  he  arose  from  his  knees  with  a  low  laugh,  whispering! 

*  It  is  all  right." 


148        SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS 


CHAPTER  XXL 

NEWS  FOR  ISHMAEL. 

December's  sky  is  chill  and  drear, 
December's  leaf  is  dun  and  sere; 
No  longer  Autumn's  glowing  rea 
Upon  our  forest  hills  is  shed; 
No  more  beneath  the  evening  beam 
The  wave  reflects  their  crimson  gleam) 
The  shepherd  shifts  his  mantle's  fold 
And  wraps  him  closely  from  the  cold: 
His  dogs  no  merry  circles  wheel, 
But  shivering  follow  at  his  heel; 
And  cowering  glances  often  cast 
As  deeper  moans  the  gathering  blast. 
—Scott. 

"All  that  is  good  must  be  worked  for,"  wrote  the  wisest  of 
our  sages.  Ishmael  felt  the  truth  of  this,  and  worked  hard. 

His  first  success  at  the  bar  had  been  so  brilliant  as  to  dazzle 
and  astonish  all  his  contemporaries;  and  upon  the  fame  of  that 
success  he  prospered  exceedingly. 

But  Ishmael  well  knew  that  if  it  needed  hard  work  to  win 
fame,  it  needed  much  harder  work  to  keep  it. 

He  felt  that  if  he  became  idle  or  careless  now,  his  brilliant 
success  would  prove  to  be  but  a  meteor's  flash,  instead  of  the 
clear  and  steady  planet  light  he  intended  it  to  become. 

He  read  and  thought  with  great  diligence  and  perseverance; 
and  so  he  often  found  a  way  through  labyrinths  of  difficulty 
that  would  have  baffled  any  less  firmly  persistent  thinker  and 
worker. 

And  thus  his  success,  splendid  from  the  first,  was  gaining 
permanency  every  day. 

His  reputation  was  established  on  a  firm  foundation,  and 
he  was  building  it  up  strongly  as  well  as  highly. 

Strangers  who  had  heard  of  the  celebrated  young  barrister, 
and  had  occasion  to  seek  his  professional  services,  always  ex 
pected  to  find  a  man  of  thirty  or  thirty-five  years  old,  and  were 
astonished  to  see  one  of  scarcely  twenty-two. 

Ishmael  was  very  much  admired  and  courted  by  the  best 
circles  of  the  Capital;  but,  though  eminently  social  and  affec 
tionate  in  his  nature,  he  entered  only  moderately  into  society 
Devotion  to  company  and  attention  to  business  were  incom 
patible,  he  knew. 


NEWS   FOB   ISHMAEL.  149 

If  there  ever  happened  to  be  an  alternative  of  a  tempting 
evening  party,  where  he  might  be  sure  of  meeting  many  con 
genial  friends  on  the  one  hand,  and  an  impending  case  that 
required  careful  preparation  on  the  other,  you  may  rely  on  it 
that  Ishmael  sacrificed  pleasure  and  gave  himself  up  to  duty. 
And  this  he  did,  not  occasionally,  but  always;  in  this  way  he 
earned  and  retained  his  high  position, 
i    And,  ambitious  young  reader,  this  is  the  only  way. 
j     Thus  in  useful  and  successful  work  Ishmael  employed  the  f 
autumn  that  Claudia  in  her  distant  home  was  wasting  in  idle-  j 
ness  and  repinings. 

On  the  first  Monday  in  December  Congress  met,  as  usual. 
And  about  the  middle  of  the  month  the  Supreme  Court  sat. 

Therefore  Ishmael  was  not  very  much  surprised  when  one 
morning,  just  after  he  had  brought  a  very  difficult  suit  to  a 
triumphant  termination,  he  saw  his  friend  Judge  Merlin  enter 
his  private  office. 

Ishmael  started  up  joyously  to  greet  his  visitor;  but  stopped 
short  on  seeing  how  pale,  haggard,  and  feeble  the  old  man 
looked.  And  his  impulsive  exclamation  of:  "Oh,  judge,  I  am 
so  glad  to  see  you,"  changed  at  once  to  the  commiserating 
words — "  How  sorry  I  feel  to  see  you  so  indisposed !  Have  you 
been  ill  long  ? "  he  inquired,  as  he  placed  his  easiest  chair  for 
the  supposed  invalid. 

"Yes,  I  have  been  ill,  Ishmael,  very  ill;  but  not  long,  and 
not  in  body — in  mind,  Ishmael,  in  mind !  "  and  the  old  man  sank 
into  the  chair  and,  resting  his  elbow  on  the  office  table,  bowed 
his  stricken  head  upon  his  hand. 

Ishmael  drew  near  and  bent  over  him  in  respectful  sympathy, 
waiting  for  his  confidence.  But  as  the  judge  continued  over 
whelmed  and  silent,  the  young  man  took  the  initiative,  and  in 
a  soft  and  reverential  tone  said: 

"  I  do  hope,  sir,  that  you  have  met  with  no  serious  trouble." 

A  deep  groan  was  the  only  answer. 

"  Can  I  serve  you  in  any  way,  sir  ?  You  know  that  I  am  de 
voted  to  your  interests." 

"Yes,  Ishmael,  yes,  I  know  that  you  are  the  most  faithful 
of  friends,  as  well  as  the  most  accomplished  of  counselors.  It 
is  in  both  characters,  my  dear  boy,  that  you  are  wanted  to-day." 

"Instruct  me,  sir.  Command  me.  I  am  entirely  at  you! 
disposal." 

"Even  to  the  extent  of  going  to  Europe  with  me?" 


150        SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FPOM  THE  DEPTHS. 

Ishmael  hesitated;  but  only  because  he  was  utterly  unprc« 
pared  for  the  proposal;  and  then  he  answered: 

"Yes,  sir;  if  it  should  appear  to  be  really  necessary  to  your 
interests." 

"  Oh,  Ishmael !  I  am  an  old  and  world-worn  man,  and  I  have 
had  much  experience;  but,  indeed,  I  know  not  how  to  break  to 
you  the  news  I  have  to  bring !  "  groaned  the  judge. 

"  If  there  is  any  man  in  the  world  you  can  confide  in  it  i3 
surely  myself,  your  friend  and  your  attorney." 

"  I  feel  sure  of  that,  Ishmael,  quite  sure  of  that.  Well,  I  do 
not  see  any  better  way  of  putting  you  in  possession  of  the  facts 
than  by  letting  you  read  these  letters.  When  you  have  read 
them  all,  you  will  know  as  much  as  I  do,"  said  the  judge,  as 
he  drew  from  his  pocket  a  parcel  of  papers  and  looked  over 
them.  "  There,  read  that  first,"  he  continued,  placing  one  in 
Ishmael 's  hand. 

Ishmael  opened  the  letter  and  read  as  follows: 

"Castle  Cragg,  near  Banff,  Buchan,  Scotland. 
"My  Dearest  Father:  We  are  all  in  good  health;  there 
fore  do  not  be  alarmed,  even  though  I  earnestly  implore  you 
to  drop  everything  you  may  have  in  hand  and  come  over  to  me 
immediately,  by  the  very  first  steamer  that  sails  after  your 
receipt  of  this  letter.  Father,  you  will  comply  with  my  entreaty 
when  I  inform  you  that  I  have  been  deceived  and  betrayed  by 
him  who  swore  to  cherish  and  protect  me.  My  life  and  honor 
are  both  imperiled.  I  will  undertake  to  guard  both  for  a 
month,  until  you  come.  But  come  at  once  to  your  wronged  but 

"  Loving  child, 

«  Claudia." 

"Good  Heaven,  sir,  what  does  this  mean?"  exclaimed  Ish 
mael,  looking  up,  after  he  had  read  the  letter. 

"I  do  not  clearly  know  myself.  It  is  what  I  wish  you  tft 
help  me  to  find  out." 

"But — when  was  this  letter  received?" 

"  On  Monday  last." 

"  On  Monday  last,"  repeated  Ishmael,  glancing  at  the  envel 
ope;  "that  was  the  5th  of  December;  and  it  is  postmarked 
'Banff,  October  15th.'  Is  it  possible  that  this  important 
letter  has  been  seven  weeks  on  its  way  ? " 

a  Yes,  it  is  quite  possible.    If  yoa  look  at  the  envelope  closely 


NEWS  FOE  ISHMAEL.  151 

you  will  see  that  it  is  stamped  'Missent,'  and  remailed  from 
San  Francisco,  California,  to  which  place  it  was  sent  by  mis 
take.  You  perceive  it  has  traveled  half  around  the  world  be' 
fore  coming  here." 

"  How  very  unfortunate !  and  a  letter  so  urgent  as  this !  Sir, 
can  you  give  me  any  idea  of  the  danger  that  threatens  Lady 
Vincent  ? "  inquired  Ishmael,  raising  his  eyes  for  a  moment 
from  his  study  of  the  letter. 

"Read  this  second  letter;  I  received  it,  and  a  third  one,  by 
the  very  same  mail  that  brought  the  long-delayed  first  one," 
replied  the  judge. 

Ishmael  took  this  letter  also,  and  read: 

"  McGruder's  Hotel,  Edinboro',  Scotland, 

"November  25,  184—. 

"  My  Dearest  Father :  I  wrote  to  you  about  six  weeks  ago, 
informing  you  that  I  was  in  sorrow  and  in  danger,  and  im 
ploring  you  to  come  and  comfort  and  protect  me.  And  since 
that  time  I  have  been  waiting  with  the  most  acute  anxiety  to 
hear  from  you  by  letter  or  in  person.  Expecting  this  with  con 
fidence,  I  did  not  think  it  necessary  to  write  again.  But,  as 
so  long  a  time  has  elapsed,  I  begin  to  fear  that  you  have  not  re 
ceived  my  letter,  and  so  I  write  again.  Oh,  my  father!  if  you 
should  not  be  already  on  your  way  to  my  relief — if  you  should 
be  still  lingering  at  home  on  the  receipt  of  this  letter,  fly  to 
me  at  once!  My  situation  is  desperate;  my  danger  imminent; 
my  necessity  extreme.  Oh,  sir!  an  infamous  plot  has  been 
hatched  against  me ;  I  have  been  driven  with  ignominy  from  my 
husband's  house;  my  name  has  gone  over  the  length  and 
breadth  of  England,  a  by-word  of  reproach !  I  am  alone  and 
penniless  in  this  hotel;  in  which  I  know  not  how  short  the  time 
may  be  that  they  will  permit  me  to  stay.  Come!  Come 
quickly  I  Come  and  save,  if  it  be  possible,  your  wretched  child, 

"  Claudia." 


"  Heaven  of  heavens !  how  can  this  be  ? "  cried  Ishmael, 
looking  up  from  these  fearful  lines  into  the  woe-worn  face  of 
the  judge. 

"  Oh,  I  know  but  little  more  than  yourself.  Read  this  third 
letter." 

Ishmael  eagerly  took  and  opened  it  and  read: 


152         SELF-RAISED;  OR,  IROJI  THE  DEPTHS. 

"  Cameron  Court,  near  Edinboro', 

"  November  27,  184—. 

"Judge  Merlin — Sir:  Your  unhappy  daughter  is  under  my 
roof.  As  soon  as  I  heard  what  had  happened  at  Castle  Cragg, 
and  learned  that  she  was  alone  and  unprotected  at  McGruder's, 
I  lost  no  time  in  going  to  her  and  offering  my  sympathy  and 
protection.  I  induced  her  to  come  with  me  to  my  home.  I 
have  heard  her  story  from  her  own  lips.  And  I  believe  her  to 
be  the  victim  of  a  cunningly  contrived  conspiracy.  Lord  Vin 
cent  has  filed  a  petition  for  divorce,  upon  the  ground  of  alleged 
infidelity.  Therefore  I  join  my  urgent  request  to  hers  that,  if 
this  finds  you  still  in  America,  you  will  instantly  on  its  receipt 
leave  for  England.  I  write  in  great  haste  to  send  my  letter 
by  the  Irish  Express  so  as  it  may  intercept  the  steamer  at 
Queenstown  and  reach  you  by  the  same  mail  that  carries  hers 
of  the  25th;  and  so  mitigate  your  anxiety  by  assuring  you  of 
her  personal  safety,  with  sympathizing  friends;  although  her 
honor  is  endangered  by  a  diabolical  conspiracy,  from  which  it 
will  require  the  utmost  legal  skill  to  deliver  her. 
"  With  great  respect,  sir,  I  remain, 

"  Berenice,  Countess  of  Hurstmonceux." 

"You  will  go  by  the  first  steamer,  sir,"  said  Ishmael. 

"  Certainly.  This  is  Saturday  morning ;  one  sails  at  noon 
from  New  York  to-day ;  but  I  could  not  catch  that." 

"  Of  course  not ;  but  the  *  Oceana '  sails  from  Boston  on 
Wednesday." 

"  Yes ;  I  shall  go  by  her.  But,  Ishmael,  can  you  go  with  me  ? " 
inquired  the  judge,  with  visible  anxiety. 

"  Certainly,"  promptly  replied  the  young  man,  never  hinting 
at  the  sacrifices  he  would  have  to  make  in  order  to  accompany 
his  friend  on  so  long  a  journey. 

"  Thank  you,  thank  you,  my  dear  Ishmael  I  I  knew  you 
would.  You  will  be  of  great  assistance.  Of  course  we  must  op 
pose  this  rascally  viscount's  petition,  and  do  our  best  to  un 
mask  his  villainy.  But  how  to  do  it?  I  was  never  very  quick 
witted,  Ishmael;  and  now  my  faculties  are  blunted  with  age. 
But  I  have  much  to  hope  from  your  aid  in  this  case.  I  know 
that  you  cannot  appear  publicly  for  Lady  Vincent;  but  at  the 
same  time  you  may  be  of  inestimable  value  as  a  private  coun 
selor.  Your  genius,  acumen,  and  wonderful  insight  will  en 
able  us  to  expose  this  conspiracy,  defeat  the  viscount,  and  savo 


ITEWS   FOE   ISHMAEL.  153 

Claudia,  if  anything  on  earth  can  do  so.  Thank  you,  thank 
you,  good  and  noble  young  friend! "  said  the  judge,  taking  and 
cordially  pressing  his  hand. 

"Judge,  you  know  that  you  are  most  heartily  welcome  to 
all  my  services.  There  is  no  one  in  the  world  that  I  would 
work  for  with  more  pleasure  than  for  you,"  replied  the  young 
man,  returning  the  pressure. 

"  I  know  it,  my  boy.    Heaven  bless  you !  " 

"And  now  let  us  arrange  for  our  journey.  As  the  steamer 
leaves  Boston  on  next  Wednesday  morning,  we  should  leave 
here  on  Tuesday  morning  at  latest." 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  so." 

"  Therefore,  you  see,  we  have  but  three  days  before  us ;  and, 
as  the  Sabbath  intervenes,  we  have  really  but  two  for  prepara 
tion — to-day  and  Monday." 

"  That  will  be  sufficient." 

"  Yes,  sir.  But,  judge,  I  must  run  down  into  St.  Mary's,  and 
take  leave  of  my  betrothed,  before  starting  on  so  long  a  jour 
ney." 

"  Oh,  Ishmael,  you  will  not  have  time.  Suppose  you  should 
be  too  late  to  meet  the  steamer  ? " 

"I  will  not  be  too  late,  Judge  Merlin.  I  will  hire  a  horse 
and  start  this  morning.  I  can  get  fresh  horses  at  several 
places  on  the  road,  and  reach  the  Beacon  before  twelve  o'clock 
at,  night.  I  can  spend  the  Sabbath  there,  and  go  to  church  with 
the  family.  And  on  Monday  morning  I  will  make  an  early  start, 
so  as  to  be  here  on  Monday  night." 

"  Oh,  Ishmael,  it  will  be  a  great  risk." 

"Not  at  all;  I  shall  be  sure  to  come  up  in  time.  And,  be 
sides,  you  know  I  must  see  Bee  before  I  go,"  said  Ishmael, 
with  that  confiding  smile  that  no  one  could  resist. 

"  Well,  well,  I  suppose  it  must  be  so ;  so  go  on ;  but  only  be 
punctual." 

"  I  surely  will." 

"And  oh,  by  the  way,  Ishmael,  tell  Mr.  Middleton  all  about 
it;  that  is,  all  we  know,  which  is  very  little,  since  neither  Lady 
Vincent  nor  Lady  Hurstmonceux  has  given  us  any  details." 

"  Then  Mr.  Middleton  knows  nothing  of  this  ? " 

"Not  a  syllable.  I  left  the  neighborhood  without  breathing 
a  hint  of  it  to  any  human  being.  I  did  not  even  think  of  doing 
so.  Oh,  Ishmael,  I  was  in  a  state  of  distraction  when  I  left 
home!  Think  of  it!  I  had  been  tormented  with  anxiety  for 


154        SELF-RAISED;  OK,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS 

weeks  before  the  receipt  of  these  letters.  For,  listen :  you  kno\» 
that  Claudia  sailed  on  the  first  of  October.  "'Veil;  I  calculated 
it  would  take  about  two  weeks  for  her  to  reach  Liverpool,  and 
about  two  more  weeks  for  a  letter  to  return.  So  I  made  myself 
contented  until  the  first  of  November,  when,  as  I  expected,  I 
received  my  first  letter  from  her.  It  was  a  very  long  letter, 
dated  at  various  times  from  the  sea,  and  written  during  the 
voyage,  and  mailed  at  Queenstown.  Three  days  later  I  re 
ceived  another  and  shorter  letter,  merely  advising  me  of  her 
safe  arrival  in  England,  and  mailed  from  Liverpool.  Still  three 
days  later  a  letter  dated  Aberdeen,  and  informing  me  of  her 
journey  to  Scotland.  A  whole  week  later — for  it  appeared 
this  last  letter  was  much  delayed  on  its  route — I  got  a  short 
letter  from  her  dated  Banff,  and  telling  me  that  she  had  ar 
rived  that  far  on  her  journey,  and  expected  to  be  at  Castle 
Cragg  the  same  evening.  Now  these  letters  were  all  dated 
within  one  or  two  days  of  each  other,  though  there  was  a  longer 
time  between  the  reception  of  each ;  a  fact,  I  suppose,  to  be  ac 
counted  for  by  the  irregularity  of  the  ocean  mails.  The  last 
letter,  dated  October  14th,  did  not  reach  me  until  November 
12th.  And  after  that  I  received  no  more  letters,  until  I  got 
these  three  all  by  one  mail.  You  may  judge  how  intense  my 
anxiety  was  until  these  letters  came;  and  how  distracted  my 
mind,  as  soon  as  I  had  read  them." 

"  Oh,  yes,  sir,  yes !  " 

"  Therefore,  you  see,  I  never  thought  of  what  was  due  to 
Middleton,  or  anybody  else.  So  just  tell  him  all  about  it,  but 
in  strict  confidence;  for  Claudia  must  not  become  the  subject 
of  gossip  here,  poor  child ! " 

"No,  sir;  certainly  she  must  not.  I  will  bind  Mr.  Middle- 
ton  to  secrecy  before  I  tell  him  anything  about  it." 

"Yes,  and — stop  a  moment!  You  had  better  just  show  him 
these  letters.  They  will  speak  for  themselves  and  save  you 
the  trouble.  Tell  him  that  we  know  no  more  than  these  letters 
reveal." 

"I  will  do  so,  Judge  Merlin." 

"  And  now,  Ishmael,  I  must  return  to  my  hotel,  where  I  ex 
pect  to  meet  my  old  friend,  General  Tourneysee.  When  do  you 
start  for  St.  Mary's?" 

"  Within  an  hour  from  this." 

"  Well,  then,  call  at  the  hotel  on  your  way  and  take  leave  of 
me." 


NEWS   FOE    ISIIMAEL.  155 

"I  will  do  so." 

"Good-by,  for  the  present,"  said  the  judge,  shaking  hands 
with  his  young  friend. 

As  soon  as  Judge  Merlin,  had  left  the  office  Ishmael  sank 
down  into  his  chair  and  yielded  up  his  mind  to  intense  thought. 

It  was  true,  then,  the  terrible  presentiment  of  evil  that  had 
haunted  his  imagination  in  regard  to  Claudia  was  now  real 
ized!  The  dark  storm  cloud  that  his  prophetic  eye  had  seen 
lowering  over  her  had  now  burst  in  ruin  on  her  head!  How 
strange!  how  unexplainable  by  human  reason  were  these  nays* 
teries  of  the  spirit!  But  Ishmael  lost  no  time  in  fruitless 
speculations.  He  arose  quickly  and  rang  the  bell. 

The  professor  answered  it. 

"  Morris,  I  wish  you  to  go  around  to  Bellingby's  stables  and 
ask  them  to  send  me  a  good,  fresh  horse,  immediately,  to  go 
into  the  country.  I  shall  want  him  for  three  days.  Tell  them  to 
send  me  the  brown  horse,  Jack,  if  he  is  not  in  use;  but  if  he  is, 
tell  them  to  send  the  strongest  and  fastest  horse  they  have." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  answered  the  professoir,  hurrying  off. 

Ishmael  went  up  to  his  chamber  and  packed  his  valise,  and 
then  returned  to  the  office  and  summoned  his  first  clerk,  told 
him  that  he  was  going  into  the  country  immediately,  for  three 
days,  and  that  after  his  return  he  should  start  for  Europe,  to 
be  gone  for  a  few  weeks,  and  gave  him  instructions  regarding 
the  present  conduct  of  the  office  business,  and  promised  di 
rections  respecting  the  future  administration  of  professional 
affairs  when  he  should  return  from  the  country  before  start 
ing  for  Europe. 

When  he  had  got  through  his  conference  with  his  clerk,  and 
the  latter  had  left  the  private  office,  the  professor,  who  had 
come  back  and  was  waiting  his  turn,  entered. 

"Well,  Morris?" 

"  Well,  sir,  the  brown  horse  will  be  here  as  soon  as  he  is  fed, 
and  watered,  and  saddled,  and  bridled.  He  is  in  good  condition, 
sir,  and  quite  fresh,  as  he  hasn't  been  in  use  for  two  days,  sir." 

"  All  right,  professor,  sit  down ;  I  have  something  to  tell  you." 

"  Yes,  sir  ?  Indeed,  sir ! "  said  Jim  Morris,  taking  his  seat 
and  feeling  sure  he  should  presently  hear  Mr.  Worth  was  going 
down  into  the  country  for  the  purpose  of  marrying  Miss  Mid- 
dleton  and  bringing  her  home.  But  the  news  that  he  really 
heard  astonished  him  more  than  this  would  have  done. 

"  I  shall  start  for  Europe  on  Wednesday,  Morris." 


156  SELF-KAISED  J    OK,    FROM   THE   DEPTHS. 

"  You  don't  say  so,  sir  1 "  exclaimed  the  old  man. 

"  Yes ;  sudden  business.  But  I  promised  you,  professor,  that 
if  ever  I  should  go  to  Europe  you  should  go  with  me,  if  you 
should  please  to  do  so.  Now  I  will  give  you  your  choice.  You 
shall  attend  me  to  Europe,  or  stay  here  and  take  care  of  my 
rooms  while  I  am  gone." 

The  professor's  eyes  fairly  danced  at  the  idea  of  crossing  the 
mighty  Atlantic  and  seeing  glorious  old  Europe;  but  still  he 
had  sense  of  propriety  and  self-denial  enough  to  say: 

"I  am  willing  to  do  that  which  will  be  of  the  most  use  to 
yourself,  sir." 

"  Morris,  you  would  be  of  great  use  to  me  in  either  position. 
If  you  should  stay  here,  I  should  feel  sure  that  my  rooms  were 
safe  in  the  care  of  a  faithful  keeper." 

"  Then,  sir,  I  prefer  to  stay." 

"  Yes,  but  stop  a  moment.  If  you  should  go  with  me,  I  should 
enjoy  the  trip  much  more.  I  should  enjoy  it  myself  and  enjoy 
your  enjoyment  of  it  also.  And,  besides,  it  would  be  so  pleas 
ant  to  feel  that  I  had  an  attached  friend  always  with  me." 

"  Then,  Mr.  Worth,  as  there  is  about  as  much  to  be  said  on 
one  side  as  there  is  on  the  other,  I'll  do  whichever  you  prefer." 

"  I  greatly  prefer  that  you  should  go  with  me,  professor," 
said  Ishmael,  who  read  the  old  man's  eager  desire  to  travel. 

"  Then  I'll  go,  sir;  and  with  the  greatest  of  pleasure." 

"  Can  you  be  ready  to  leave  for  Boston  on  Tuesday  morning, 
to  catch  the  steamer  that  sails  on  Wednesday  ? " 

"  Law,  yes,  sir !  what's  to  hinder  ?  Why,  I  would  be  ready  hi 
ten  minutes,  sooner  than  miss  going  to  Europe.  What's  to  do 
but  just  pitch  my  clothes  into  a  trunk  and  lock  it?" 

"Well,  Morris,  I  will  give  you  time  enough  to  pack  your 
clothes  carefully,  and  mine  also.  There  is  the  horse ! "  ex 
claimed  Ishmael,  rising  and  locking  his  desk. 

"  Sure  enough,  there  he  is,  and  looking  as  gay  as  a  lark,  this 
bright  morning.  You  will  have  a  pleasant  ride,  sir,"  said  the 
professor,  looking  from  the  window. 

"Yes;  fetch  my  overcoat  from  the  passage,  Morris." 

"Yes,  sir;  here  it  is.  But  won't  you  take  just  a  bit  of 
luncheon  before  you  go?  I  am  sure  the  ladies  would  get  it 
ready  for  you  quick,  and  glad  to  do  it." 

"No,  thank  you,  Morris.  You  know  I  ate  breakfast  only 
two  hours  ago,  and  a  very  hearty  one,  too,  as  I  always  do. 
So  I  shall  not  require  anything  until  I  get  to  Horsehead,"  said 


ISIDIAEI/S    VISIT   TO    BEE.  157 

Ishmael,  buttoning  up  his  greatcoat.  Then  he  drew  on  his 
gloves  and  shook  hands  with  the  professor. 

"Good-by,  Morris  1  God  bless  youl  Think  of  going  to 
Europe." 

"  Oh,  sir,  you  may  be  sure  I  shan't  think  of  anything  else 
all  day,  nor  dream  of  anything  else  all  night.  To  think  of  my 
seeing  the  Tower  of  London !  Well,  sir,  good-by  1  And  the  Lord 
bless  you  and  give  you  a  pleasant  journey,"  said  the  professor, 
as  he  handed  his  master's  hat. 


CHAPTER  XXIL. 
ISHMAEL'S  VISIT  TO  BEE. 

Thank  Heaven  my  first  love  failed, 
Aa  every  first  love  should. 

— Patmvre. 

Tshmael  mounted  and  rode  off,  calling  only  at  the  hotel 
to  say  good-by  to  the  judge  and  renew  his  promise  of  a  punctual 
return. 

Then  he  galloped  blithely  away;  crossed  the  beautiful  Ana- 
costia,  by  the  Navy  Yard  bridge;  and  gayly  took  the  road  to 
the  old  St.  Mary's. 

Gayly?    Yes,  gayly,  notwithstanding  all. 

To  be  sure  he  was  sorry  for  Claudia;  and  he  proved  it  by 
consenting,  at  a  great  sacrifice  of  his  personal  interests, 
to  cross  the  ocean  and  go  to  her  assistance.  But  he 
had  faith  in  the  doctrine  that — "Ever  the  right  comes  upper 
most  " ;  and  he  believed  that  she  would  be  delivered  from  her 
troubles.  And  his  compassion  for  Claudia  did  not  prevent  him 
from  rejoicing  exceedingly  in  the  speedy  prospect  of  meeting 
Bee.  Besides  he  no  longer  loved  Claudia,  except  with  that 
Christian  kindliness  which  he  cherished  for  every  member  of 
the  human  family. 

You  may  be  sure  that  the  sickly,  sentimental,  sinful  folly  of 
loving  another  man's  wife,  even  if  she  had  been,  before  her 
marriage,  his  own  early  passion,  was  very  far  below  Ishmael's 
healthy,  rational,  and  honorable  nature.  No  nerve  in  his  bosom 
vibrated  to  the  sound  of  Claudia's  name.  The  passion  of  his 
heart  was  perfectly  cured;  its  wounds  were  quite  healed;  even 


158         SELF-RAISED;  OK,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

its  scars  were  effaced.  He  could  have  smiled  at  the  memory 
of  that  ill-starred  passion  uow. 

He  was  heart-whole,  and  his  whole  heart — his  sound,  large, 
loving  heart — was  unreservedly  given  to  Bee. 

And  therefore,  notwithstanding  his  compassion  for  the  mis 
fortunes  of  Claudia,  he  rode  gayly  on  to  his  anticipated  meet 
ing  with  his  betrothed. 

It  was  a  fine,  frosty,  bracing,  winter  morning ;  the  roads  were 
good;  and  the  horse  was  fresh;  and  he  enjoyed  his  ride  ex 
ceedingly,  rejoicing  in  his  youth,  health,  and  happy,  well-placed 
love. 

He  galloped  all  the  way  to  Horsehead,  where  he  arrived  at 
noon,  took  an  early  dinner,  procured  a  fresh  horse  and  continued 
his  journey. 

He  rode  all  the  short,  bright  winter  afternoon,  and  at  dusk 
reached  his  second  stopping-place,  where  he  took  an  early  tea, 
changed  his  horse,  and  started  afresh. 

Four  more  hours  of  riding  through  the  leafless  forest,  and 
under  the  starlit  sky,  brought  him  in  sight  of  the  water;  and  a 
few  minutes  brought  him  to  the  door  of  the  Beacon. 

Here  he  sprung  from  his  saddle;  secured  his  horse  to  a  post; 
and  rushed  up  the  front  steps  to  the  hall  door  and  rang.  An 
old  servant  opened  it. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Ishmael,  sir !  what  a  surprise !  I  am  so  glad  to  see 
you,  sir." 

"  Thank  you,  Ben.    How  are  the  family  ? " 

"All  well,  sir.  Walk  in,  sir.  Won't  they  be  delighted  to  see 
you ! "  said  the  old  man,  opening  a  side  door  leading  into  the 
lighted  drawing  room,  and  announcing: 

"Mr.  Worth!" 

There  was  a  general  jumping  up  of  the  party  around  the  fire 
side,  and  a  hasty  rushing  towards  the  visitor. 

Mr.  Middleton  was  foremost,  holding  out  both  his  hands,  and 
exclaiming : 

"Why,  how  do  you  do?  Is  this  you?  This  is  a  surprise  I 
Where  did  you  drop  from  ? " 

"  Washington,  sir,"  replied  Ishmael,  returning  the  hand 
shaking,  and  then  passing  on  to  meet  the  ready  welcome  of  Mrs. 
Middleton  and  the  young  folks. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Mrs.  Middleton  ?  Dearest  Bee — it  is  such 
joy  to  meet  you ! "  he  said,  as  he  returned  the  lady's  greeting, 
a*:d  pressed  the  maiden's  hand  to  his  lips. 


ISHMAEL'S  VISIT  TO  BEE.  159 

Bee  was  fairer,  fresher,  and  lovelier  than  ever,  as  sho  stood 
there,  blushing,  but  delighted  to  see  him. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Worth  ? "  spoke  another  deep  voice. 

Ishmael  looked  up  suddenly,  and  saw  his  father  standing  be 
fore  him.  The  latter  had  approached  from  a  distant  part  of  the 
room. 

"  Mr.  Brudenell — you  here  ?  This  is  indeed  a  pleasant  sur 
prise  ! "  said  the  young  man  joyfully. 

"Mutually  so,  I  assure  you,  Ishmael." 

"  When  did  you  arrive,  sir  ? " 

"  Only  this  afternoon.  I  came  up  to  take  the  Shelton  boat, 
that  goes  to  Washington  on  Monday.  My  dislike  to  Sunday 
traveling  decided  me  to  come  up  to-day,  and  quarter  myself  on 
our  friend  Middleton  for  the  Sabbath,  so  as  to  be  in  readiness 
to  catch  the  '  Errand  Boy '  on  Monday." 

"  You  were  coming  to  see  me,  I  hope,  sir  ? " 

"  Not  purposely,  my  dear  fellow.  I  had  other  business,  less 
pleasant  but  more  pressing.  I  should  have  called  on  you,  how 
ever,  though  I  could  not  have  stayed  long;  for  I  must  go  by 
the  Monday  evening  train  to  Boston,  in  order  to  catch  the 
*  Oceana,'  that  sails  on  Wednesday  morning.  I  am  off  by  her." 

"  Indeed,  sir ! "  exclaimed  Ishmael,  in  surprise  and  delight. 
u  Why,  I  am  going  to  Europe  by  the  '  Oceana ' !  " 

"  You !  "  responded  the  elder  man,  in  equal  surprise  and  pleas 
ure.  "  Why,  what  on  earth  should  take  you  to  Europe  ?  " 

"  I  go  on  strictly  confidential  business  with  Judge  Merlin." 

"  Merlin  going  to  England,  too  ?    Oh,  I  see !  " 

The  last  three  words  were  uttered  in  a  low  tone,  and  witti 
a  total  change  of  manner,  that  struck  Ishmael  with  the  sus 
picion  that  Mr.  Brudenell  knew  more  of  Lady  Vincent's  trou 
bles  than  anyone  on  this  side  of  the  ocean,  except  her  father 
and  himself,  was  supposed  to  know. 

"  Going  to  Europe,  Ishmael  ?  you  and  the  judge  ?  Well,  Mer 
lin  did  start  off  at  a  tangent  yesterday  from  Tanglewood.  I 
suppose  he  is  pining  after  his  child,  and  has  taken  a  sudden 
freak  to  rush  over  and  see  her.  And  as  you  are  the  staff  of  his 
age,  of  course,  he  would  not  think  of  undertaking  so  long  a 
journey  without  the  support  of  your  company.  Am  I  right?" 
inquired  Mr.  Middleton  jollily. 

"  Judge  Merlin  is  going  to  see  Lady  Vincent,  and  has  invited 
me  to  accompany  him,  and  I  have  accepted  the  invitation," 
answered  the  young  man. 


160        SELF-KAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

"  Exactly,  precisely,  just  so.  But  I  wonder  how  the  son  of 
Powhatan,  Merlin  of  Tanglewood,  who  could  scarcely  breathe 
out  of  the  boundless  wilderness,  will  like  to  sojourn  in  that 
cleared-up,  trim,  tidy,  well-packed  little  island ! "  laughed  Mr. 
Middleton ;  while  Mr.  Brudenell  looked  down,  and  slowly  nodded 
his  head. 

Meanwhile  Bee's  careful,  affectionate  eyes  noticed  that  Ish- 
mael  was  very  tired,  and  she  said  something  in  a  low  voice 
4to  her  father. 

"  To  be  sure — to  be  sure,  my  dear.  I  ought  to  have  thought 
of  that  myself.  Ishmael,  my  boy,  you  have  ridden  hard  to-day; 
you  look  fagged.  Go  right  up  into  your  own  room  now — you 
know  where  to  find  it;  it  is  the  same  one  you  occupied  when 
you  were  here  last,  kept  sacred  to  you;  and  I  will  send  up  Ben 
to  rub  you  down  and  curry  you  well;  and  by  the  time  he  has 
done  that  Bee  will  have  the  provender  ready,"  said  Mr.  Middle- 
ton,  whose  delight  at  seeing  his  welcome  visitor  hurried  him 
into  all  sorts  of  absurdities. 

Ishmael  smiled,  bowed,  and  withdrew. 

Half  an  hour  afterwards,  when  he  returned  to  the  drawing 
room,  looking,  as  Mr.  Middleton  said,  "  well-groomed  and  much 
refreshed,"  Mrs.  Middleton  touched  the  bell;  the  doors  leading 
into  the  dining  room  were  thrown  open;  and  the  guests  were 
invited  to  sit  down  to  a  delicious  supper  of  fresh  fish,  oysters, 
crabs,  and  waterfowl,  which  had  been  spread  there  in  honor  of 
Mr.  BrudenelFs  arrival;  but  which  was  equally  appropriate  to 
Ishmael's  welcome  presence. 

After  supper,  when  they  returned  to  the  drawing  room,  Ish 
mael  found  an  opportunity  of  saying  aside  to  his  host  that  he 
wished  to  have  some  private  conversation  with  him  that  night. 

Accordingly,  when  the  evening  circle  had  broken  up  and  each 
had  withdrawn  to  his  or  her  own  apartment,  and  Ishmael  found 
himself  alone  in  his  chamber,  he  heard  a  rap  at  his  door,  and 
on  bidding  the  rapper  come  in,  saw  Mr.  Middleton  enter. 

"  I  have  come  at  your  request,  Ishmael,"  he  said,  taking  the 
chair  that  the  young  man  immediately  placed  for  him. 

"  Thank  you,  sir ;  I  wished  to  confide  to  you  the  cause  of 
Judge  Merlin's  sudden  journey  to  England,"  said  Ishmael 
gravely. 

"  Why,  to  see  his  daughter ! "  exclaimed  Mr.  Middleton, 
raising  his  eyebrows. 

"Yes,  it  is  to  see  Lady  Vincent.    Bui,  M?   Middleton,  her 


ISHMAEL'S  VISIT  TO  BEE.  161 

ladyship  is  in  great  sorrow  and  greater  danger,"  said  the  young 
man,  speaking  more  gravely  than  before. 

"  Sorrow  and  danger !  What  are  you  talking  of,  Ishmael  ? " 
inquired  Mr.  Middleton,  knitting  his  brows  in  perplexity. 

"  Lady  Vincent  is  separated  from  her  husband,  who  has  filed 
a  petition  for  divorce  from  her,"  said  Ishmael  solemnly. 

The  exclamation  of  amazement  and  indignation  that  burst 
from  Mr.  Middleton's  lips  was  rather  too  profane  to  be  recorded 
here. 

"  Yes,  sir ;  it  is  so,"  sighed  Ishmael. 

"  Who  says  this  ? "  demanded  Mr.  Middleton,  in  a  voice  of 
suppressed  fury. 

"  She  herself  says  it,  sir,  in  a  letter  to  her  father,  who  has 
commissioned  me  to  impart  the  facts  in  confidence  to  yourself. 
Here  are  the  letters  he  received  and  desired  me  to  hand  to  you 
for  perusal.  They  are  numbered  one,  two,  three.  Read  them  in 
that  order,  and  they  will  put  you  in  possession  of  the  whole 
affair,  as  far  as  is  known  to  any  of  us  over  here." 

Mr.  Middleton  grasped  the  letters,  and  one  after  another  de 
voured  their  contents. 

"  This  first  letter  is  nearly  two  months  old !  Why  has  it  not 
been  acted  upon  before  ? "  he  demanded,  in  an  angry  manner, 
that  proved  he  would  have  liked  to  quarrel  with  somebody. 

"  It  was  not  received  until  two  days  since.  It  was  miscarried 
and  it  went  half  around  the  world  before  it  reached  its  proper 
destination,"  said  Ishmael  equably. 

"But  what  does  it  all  mean,  then?  What  plot  is  this  al 
luded  to  ?  And  who  is  in  it  ?  " 

"Mr.  Middleton,  we  know  no  more  than  you  now  do.  We 
know  no  more  than  the  letters  that  you  have  just  read  tell  us." 

"  But  why,  in  the  name  of  Heaven,  then,  could  these  letters 
not  have  been  more  explicit  ?  Claudia  was  alone  at  McGruder's 
Hotel !  Where  were  her  servants  ?  A  plot  was  formed  against 
her!  Who  formed  it?  Why  could  she  not  have  satisfied  us 
upon  these  subjects?"  exclaimed  Mr.  Middleton  vehemently. 

"  Sir,  each  letter  seems  to  have  been  written  under  the  spur 
of  imminent  necessity.  Perhaps  there  was  no  time  to  enter 
fully  upon  the  subject;  perhaps  also  it  was  one  that  could  not 
be  discussed  through  an  epistolary  correspondence." 

"  Perhaps  they  were  all  raving  mad !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Middle- 
ton  excitedly.  "  Wow  what  are  you  all  to  do  ?  " 

"Judge  Merlin  and  myself  are  going  to  England,  as  I  told 


162         SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

you.  He  will  support  his  daughter  in  opposing  Lord  Vincent's 
application  for  a  divorce.  I  will  give  them  all  the  assistance 
in  my  power  to  render.  Of  course,  as  I  am  not  a  member  of 
any  English  bar,  I  cannot  appear  as  her  public  advocate;  but 
I  will  serve  her  to  the  utmost  of  my  ability  as  a  private  coun 
selor.  I  will  make  myself  master  of  the  case  and  use  my  best 
efforts  to  discover  and  expose  the  conspiracy  against  her.  And 
if  I  succeed,  I  will  do  my  best  to  have  the  conspirators  pun 
ished.  For  in  England,  fortunately,  conspiracy  against  the  life, 
property,  or  character  of  any  person  or  persons  is  a  felony,  pun 
ishable  by  penal  servitude.  Fortunately,  also,  in  the  criminal 
courts  of  England  the  peer  finds  no  more  favor  than  the  peasant. 
And  if  the  Lord  Viscount  Vincent  is  prosecuted  to  conviction 
he  will  stand  as  good  a  chance  of  transportation  to  the  penal 
colonies  as  the  meanest  confederate  he  has  employed,"  said 
Ishmael. 

"I  wish  he  may  be!  I'd  make  a  voyage  to  Sydney  myself 
for  the  sake  of  seeing  him  working  in  a  chain-gang.  I  hate 
the  fellow,  and  always  did." 

"I  never  liked  him,"  candidly  admitted  Ishmael;  "but  still 
it  is  not  in  the  spirit  of  vengeance,  but  of  stern  justice,  that 
I  shall  devote  every  faculty  of  my  mind  and  body  to  the  duty 
of  exposing  and  convicting  him." 

"  I  declare  to  you,  Ishmael,  '  vengeance '  and  '  stern  justice ' 
look  so  much  alike  to  me,  that,  as  the  darkies  say,  I  cannot  tell 
'  t'other  from  which.'  " 

"  There  is  a  distinction,  however,"  said  Ishmael. 

"But,  under  either  name,  I  hope  the  villainous  Viscount 
Vincent  (I  didn't  mean  to  make  that  alliteration,  however) 
will  get  his  full  measure  of  retribution!  You  go  by  the 
'  Oceana '  on  Wednesday,  you  say  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Well,  success  to  you!  Poor  Claudia!  I  hope  she  will  be 
vindicated.  I  will  talk  farther  of  this  with  you  to-morrow, 
after  church.  Now  I  see  that  you  are  very  weary  and  need  re 
pose.  Good-night!  God  bless  you,  my  dear  boy." 

Very  early  the  next  morning  Ishmael  arose,  and  after  making 
his  toilet  and  offering  up  his  devotions,  he  went  out  to  refresh 
Kimself  by  a  stroll  on  the  beach  that  fine  winter  morning. 

Very  exhilarating  it  was  to  him,  coming  from  the  crowded 
city,  to  saunter  up  and  down  the  sands,  letting  his  eyes  wander 
over  the  broad,  sun-lit  waters  and  the  winding,  wooded  shores, 


ISHMAEL'S  VISIT  TO  BEE.  163 

He  watched  the  latest,  hardier  fish,  not  yet  driven  to  warmer 
climes,  leap  up  through  the  sparkling  ripples  and  disappear 
again. 

He  watched  the  waterfowl  start  up  in  flocks  from  some 
near  brake,  and,  spreading  their  broad  wings,  sail  far  away 
over  the  bright  emerald-green  waves. 

Along  the  shore  he  noted  the  sly,  brown  squirrel  peep  at  him 
from  her  hole,  and  then  hop  quickly  out  of  sight ;  and  the  hardy 
little  snow-bird  light  at  his  feet  and  then  dart  swiftly  away. 

Very  dear  to  Ishmael  were  all  these  little  darlings  of  nature. 
They  had  been  the  playfellows  of  his  boyhood;  and  something 
of  the  boy  survived  in  Ishmael  yet,  as  it  does  in  every  pure 
young  man.  It  is  only  sin  that  destroys  youthfulness. 

Sometimes  he  watched  a  distant  sail  disappear  below  the 
horizon,  and  followed  her  in  imagination  over  the  se?s,  and 
thought  with  youthful  delight  how  soon  he  too  would  be  on 
the  deep  blue  waves  of  mid-ocean. 

A  step  and  a  voice  roused  him  from  his  reverie. 

"  Good-morning,  Ishmael !  I  saw  you  walking  here  from  my 
window  and  came  out  to  join  you." 

"  Oh,  good-morning,  Mr.  Brudenell ! "  exclaimed  the  young 
man,  turning  with  a  glad  smile  to  meet  the  elder  one. 

Mr.  Brudenell  took  the  arm  of  Ishmael,  and,  leaning  rather 
heavily  on  it,  joined  him  in  his  walk. 

"  I  know  why  Judge  Merlin  and  yourself  are  going  to  Eng 
land,"  he  said. 

"  I  thought  you  did.  But  I  could  not,  and  cannot  now,  con 
ceive  how  you  should  have  found  out;  since  we  ourselves  knew 
nothing  about  the  unfortunate  affair  until  a  day  or  two  since; 
and  it  is  one  of  a  strictly  private  and  domestic  nature,"  re 
plied  Ishmael. 

"  Strictly  private  and  domestic?  Why,  Ishmael,  it  may  have 
been  so  in  the  beginning;  but  now  it  is  public  and  patent.  All 
England  is  ringing  with  the  affair.  It  is  the  last  sensation 
story  that  the  reporters  have  got  hold  of.  It  was  from  the  Lon 
don  papers  received  by  the  last  mail  that  I  learned  the  news," 
said  Mr.  Brudenell,  taking  from  his  pocket  the  "  Times," 
"  Post,"  and  "  Chronicle." 

Ishmael  hastily  glanced  over  the  accounts  of  the  affair  as 
contained  in  each  of  these.  But  though  the  articles  were  long 
and  wordy  they  afforded  him  no  new  information. 

They  told  him  what  he  already  knew;  that  the  Viscount  Vin- 


164         SELF-EAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

cent  had  filed  a  petition  for  divorce  from  his  viscountess  on  the 
ground  of  infidelity;  that  the  lady  was  the  daughter  of  an 
American  chief -justice ;  that  she  was  a  beauty  and  an  heiress; 
that  Lord  Vincent  had  formed  her  acquaintance  at  the  Presi 
dent's  house  during  his  official  visit  to  Washington ;  that  he  had 
married  her  during  the  past  summer;  and  after  an  extended 
bridal  tour  had  brought  her  in  October  to  Castle  Cragg,  when 
the  suspicions  that  led  to  subsequent  discovery  and  ultimate 
separation  were  first  aroused,  etc.,  etc.,  etc. 

"All  that  is  very  unsatisfactory.  I  wish  we  knew  the  »us- 
picious  circumstances,"  said  Mr.  Brudenell. 

"I  believe  there  were  no  suspicious  circumstances.  I  be 
lieve  the  whole  affair  to  be  a  conspiracy  against  Lady  Vincent," 
said  Ishmael. 

"But  what  motive  could  the  viscount  have  for  conspiracy 
against  her  ? " 

"  The  motive  of  getting  rid  of  her,  while  he  retains  her  for 
tune,  which  most  unluckily  was  not  settled  upon  herself." 

While  Mr.  Brudenell  stood  gazing  with  consternation  upon 
the  speaker,  there  came  flying  from  the  house  a  negro  boy,  who 
said  that  he  was  sent  to  tell  them  that  the  breakfast  was  ready. 

They  returned  to  the  house  and  joined  the  family  at  the 
cheerful  breakfast  table. 

It  was  a  large  party  that  met  in  the  parlor  afterwards  to  go 
to  church. 

And  a  gig  in  addition  to  the  capacious  family  carriage  was 
in  attendance. 

"Ishmael,"  said  Mr.  Middleton,  in  the  kindly  thoughtfulness 
of  his  nature,  "  you  will  drive  Bee  in  the  gig.  The  rest  of  us 
will  go  in  the  carriage." 

"  Thank  you  very  much,  Mr.  Middleton,"  answered  the  young 
Man,  as  he  smilingly  led  his  betrothed  to  the  gig,  placed  her  in  it 
and  seated  himself  beside  her. 

"  Go  on — go  on  ahead !  We  shall  not  ride  over  you  in  our 
lumbering  old  coach ! "  said  Mr.  Middleton. 

Ishmael  nodded,  took  the  reins,  and  started.  The  road  lay 
along  the  high  banks  of  the  river  above  the  sands. 

"  How  delightful  it  is  to  spend  this  day  with  you,  dear  Bee ! " 
he  said,  as  they  bowled  along. 

"  Oh,  yes !  and  it  is  delightful  to  us  all  to  have  you  here,  Ish 
mael  !  "  she  said ;  and  then,  with  a  slight  depression  in  her  tone, 
she  inquired: 


ISHMAEI/8   VISIT   TO   BEE.  165 

"  Will  you  be  gone  to  Europe  long  ?  " 

"No,  dearest  Bee.  I  shall  dispatch  the  business  that  takes 
me  there  as  quickly  as  I  can  and  hasten  back,"  he  replied;  but 
he  forbore  to  hint  the  nature  of  this  business;  it  was  a  subject 
with  which  he  did  not  wish  to  wound  the  delicate  ear  of  Bee 
Middleton. 

"I  hope  you  will  enjoy  your  voyage,"  she  said,  smiling  on 
him. 

"  I  wish  you  were  going  with  me,  dearest  Bee.  I  had  looked 
forward  to  the  pleasure  of  our  seeing  Europe  together  when 
we  should  go  there  for  the  first  time.  And  the  continent  we  will 
see  together;  for  I  shall  go  no  farther  than  England.  I  shall 
reserve  France,  Italy,  Germany,  and  Russia  for  our  tour  next 
autumn,  dear  Bee." 

She  smiled  on  him  with  sympathetic  delight.  But  as  the 
road  here,  quite  on  the  edge  of  the  banks,  required  the  most 
careful  driving,  the  lovers'  conversation  ceased  for  a  while. 

And  presently  they  were  at  the  Shelton  church.  The  con 
gregation  were  in  luck  that  day.  A  celebrated  preacher,  who 
happened  to  be  visiting  the  neighborhood,  occupied  the  pulpit. 
He  preached  from  the  text,  "  Come  up  higher."  And  his  dis 
course  was  a  stirring  call  upon  his  hearers  to  strive  after  per 
fection.  All  were  pleased,  instructed,  and  inspired. 

When  the  services  were  concluded,  our  party  returned  home 
in  the  same  order  in  which  they  had  come.  And  as  there  was 
no  afternoon  service,  they  spent  the  remainder  of  the  day  in 
the  enjoyment  of  each  other's  company  and  conversation. 

Bee  and  Ishmael  were  mercifully  left  to  themselves,  to  make 
the  most  of  the  few  hours  before  their  separation.  They  were 
not  morbid  sentimentalists — those  two  young  people;  they  were 
not  fearful,  or  doubtful,  or  exacting  of  each  other.  If  you  had 
chanced  to  overhear  their  conversation,  you  would  have  heard 
none  of  those  entreaties,  warnings,  and  protestations  that  often 
make  up  the  conversation  of  lovers  about  to  part  for  a  time, 
and  a  little  uncertain  of  each  other's  fidelity.  They  had  faith, 
hope,  and  love  for,  and  in,  each  other  and  their  Creator.  Ish 
mael  never  imagined  such  a  thing  as  that  Bee  could  form  an 
other  attachment,  or  go  into  a  decline  while  he  was  gone.  And 
Bee  had  no  fears  either  that  the  sea  would  swallow  her  lover,  or 
that  a  rival  would  carry  him  off. 

So  at  the  end  of  that  evening  they  bade  each  ofher  a  cheer 
ful  good-night.  And  the  next  morning,  when  Ishmael  had  bid 


166  83LF-EAISED  ;    OR,    FROM   THE   DEFIHb. 

farewell  to  all  the  family,  herself  included,  and  was  in  the 
die,  she  sent  him  off  with  a  brilliant  smile  and  a  joyous : 

"Heaven  bless  you,  Ishmael!  I  know  you  will  enjoy  the 
trip." 

But  when  he  had  ridden  away  and  disappeared  down  the 
path  leading  through  the  pine  woods,  Bee  turned  into  the 
house,  ran  into  her  mother's  chamber,  threw  herself  into  her 
mother's  arms,  and  burst  into  a  flood  of  tears. 

It  is  the  mother  that  always  comes  in  for  this  sort  of  thing. 
Women  spare  men — sometimes;  but  never  spare  each  other. 

"  My  poor  child !  but  it  isn't  far,  you  know !  " 

"  Oh,  mamma,  such  a  long  way !  I  never  expected  to  be  sepa 
rated  so  far  from  Ishmael." 

"My  dear,  steam  annihilates  distance.  Only  think,  it  is 
a  voyage  of  but  ten  days." 

"  I  know.  Oh,  it  was  very  foolish  in  me  to  cry.  Thank 
Heaven,  Ishmael  didn't  see  me,"  said  Bee,  wiping  her  eyes,  and 
smiling  through  her  wet  eyelashes,  like  a  sunbeam  through  the 
rain-sprinkled  foliage. 

Bee  would  scarcely  have  been  flesh  and  blood  if  she  had  not 
indulged  in  this  one  hearty  cry;  but  it  was  the  last. 

She  left  her  mother's  side  and  went  about  her  household 
duties  cheerfully,  and  very  soon  she  was  as  happy  as  if  Ishmael 
had  not  come  and  gone;  happier,  for  she  followed  him  in  im 
agination  over  the  ocean  and  sympathized  in  his  delight. 


CHAPTEK 
HANNAH'S  HAPPY  PROGNOSTICS. 

The  morn  is  up  agnin,  the  dewy  morn, 

With  breath  all  incense  and  with  cheek  all  bloom, 

Laughing  the  night  away  with  playful  scorn, 
Rejoicing  as  if  earth  contained  no  tomb 
And  glowing  into  day.. 

— Byron. 

Ishmael  had  also  keenly  felt  the  parting  with  Beatrice.  But 
accustomed  to  self-government,  he  did  not  permit  his  feelings 
to  overcome  him.  And  indeed  his  mind  was  too  well  balanced 
to  be  much  disturbed  by  what  he  believed  would  be  but  a  short 
separation  from  his  betrothed. 

He  rode  on  gayly  that  pleasant  winter  morning,  through  the 


HANNAH'S  HAPPY  PROGNOSTICS.  167 

leafless  woods,  until  he  came  to  those  cross-roads  of  which  we 
have  so  often  spoken. 

Here  he  paused;  for  here  it  was  necessary,  finally,  to  decide 
a  question  that  he  had  been  debating  with  himself  for  the  last 
two  days. 

And  that  was  whether  or  not  he  should  take  the  time  to  go 
to  see  Hannah  and  Reuben  and  bid  them  good-by,  before  pro 
ceeding  on  his  long  journey. 

To  go  to  Woodside  he  must  take  the  road  through  Baymouth, 
which  would  carry  him  some  miles  out  of  the  direct  road  to 
Washington,  and  consume  several  hours  of  that  time  of  which 
every  moment  was  now  so  precious.  But  to  leave  the  country 
without  saying  farewell  to  the  friends  of  his  infancy  was  re 
pugnant  to  every  good  feeling  of  his  heart.  He  did  not  hesitate 
long.  He  turned  his  horse's  head  towards  Baymouth  and  put 
him  into  a  gallop.  The  horse  was  fresh,  and  Ishmael  thought 
he  would  ride  fast  until  he  got  to  Woodside  and  then  let  the 
horse  rest  while  he  talked  to  Hannah. 

He  rode  through  Baymouth  without  drawing  rein;  only  giv 
ing  a  rapid  glance  of  recognition  as  he  passed  the  broad  show- 
window  of  Hamlin's  bookstore,  which  used  to  be  the  wonder 
and  delight  of  his  destitute  boyhood. 

It  was  still  early  in  the  morning  when  he  reached  Woodside 
and  rode  up  to  the  cottage  gate.  How  bright  and  cheerful  the 
cottage  looked  that  splendid  winter  morning.  The  evergreen 
trees  around  it  and  the  clusters  of  crimson  rose-berries  on  the 
climbing  rosevines  over  its  porch,  making  quite  a  winter  verdure 
and  bloom  against  its  white  walls. 

Ishmael  dismounted,  tied  his  horse,  and  entered  the  little  gate. 
Hannah  was  standing  on  the  step  of  the  porch,  holding  a  tin 
pan  of  chicken  food  in  her  hands,  and  feeding  two  pet  bantams 
that  she  kept  separate  from  the  shanghais,  which  beat  them 
cruelly  whenever  they  got  a  chance. 

On  seeing  Ishmael  she  dropped  her  pan  of  victuals  and  made 
a  dash  at  him,  exclaiming: 

"Why,  Ishmael!  Good  fathers  alive!  is  this  you?  And 
where  did  you  drop  from  ? " 

"  From  my  saddle  at  your  gate,  last,  Aunt  Hannah,"  said 
Ishmael,  smiling,  as  he  folded  her  in  his  embrace. 

"But  I'm  so  glad  to  see  you,  Ishmael!  And  so  surprised! 
Come  in,  my  dear,  dear  boy.  Shoo !  you  greedy,  troublesome 
creeturs.  You're  never  satisfied!  I  wish  the  shanghais  would 


168         SELF-EAISED;  on,  FROM  ,THE  DEPTHS. 

swallow  you ! "  cried  Hannah,  speaking  first  to  Ishmael  as  she 
cast  her  arms  around  his  neck;  and  next  to  the  bantams  that 
had  flown  up  to  her  shoulders. 

"  I  am  delighted  to  see  you  looking  so  hearty,  ma'am.  I  de 
clare  you  are  growing  quite  stout,"  said  Ishmael,  affectionately 
surveying  his  relation. 

"  Women  are  apt  to,  at  my  age,  Ishmael.  But  come  in,  my 
dear  boy,  come  in !  " 

When  they  entered  the  cottage  she  drew  Reuben's  comfortable 
armchair  up  to  the  fire;  and  when  Ishmael  had  seated  himself 
she  said: 

"  And  now !  first  of  all — have  you  had  your  breakfast  ? " 

"  Hours  ago,  thank  you." 

"  Yes ;  a  road-side  tavern  breakfast.  I  know  what  that  is. 
Here,  Sam !  Sam !  Lord,  how  I  do  miss  Sally,  to  be  sure !  " 
complained  Hannah,  as  she  went  to  the  back  door  and  bawled 
after  her  factotum. 

"  Sit  down  and  give  yourself  no  trouble.  I  breakfasted  fa 
mously  at  the  Beacon." 

"  Oh ! "  exclaimed  Hannah,  with  a  little  jealous  twinge, 
"  you've  been  there,  have  you  ?  That  accounts  for  everything. 
Well,  I  suppose  it's  natural.  But  when  is  that  affair  to  come  off, 
Ishmael?" 

"  If  you  mean  my  marriage  with  Miss  Middleton,  it  will  not 
take  place  until  next  autumn,  Aunt  Hannah,  as  I  believe  I  have 
already  told  you." 

"But  haven't  you  been  down  there  to  coax  the  old  man  to 
shorten  the  time  ?  " 

"  No,  ma'am,  but  with  a  very  different  purpose." 

"A  different  purpose?  What  was  it?  But,  law,  here  I  am 
keeping  you  talking  in  your  greatcoat!  Take  it  off  at  once, 
Ishmael,  and  be  comfortable.  And  I  will  make  Sam  light  a 
fire  and  carry  some  hot  water  in  your  room." 

"  No,  ma'am,  do  not,  please.  Believe  me  it  is  unnecessary, 
and  indeed  quite  useless.  I  have  but  half  an  hour  to  stay." 

"  But  half  an  hour  to  stay  with  me !  Do  you  mean  to  insult 
me,  Ishmael  Worth?"  demanded  Hannah  wrathfully. 

"  Certainly  not,  dear  Aunt  Hannah,"  laughed  Ishmael,  "  but 
I  am  going  to  leave  the  country,  and  so " 

"Going  to— what?" 

"I  am  going  to  leave  the  country  quite  suddenly,  and  that 
is  the  reason " 


HAPPY    PROGNOSTICS.  169 

"Ishmael  Worth!  have  you  robbed  a  bank  or  killed  a  man 
that  you  are  going  to  run  away  from  your  native  land  ? "  ex 
claimed  Hannah  indignantly. 

"  Neither,  ma'am,"  laughed  Ishmael.  "  I  go  with  Judge  Mer« 
•lin,  on  professional  business " 

"  Is  that  old  man  going  to  travel  at  his  age  2 " 

u  Yes,  because " 

"The  more  fool  he!" 

"  He  goes  on  very  important  business." 

"Very  important  fiddle-stick's  end!  The  great  old  baby  is 
pining  after  his  daughter.  And  he's  just  made  up  this  excuse 
of  business  because  he  is  ashamed  to  let  people  know  the  real 
reason — as  well  he  may  be !  But  why  he  should  drag  you  along 
with  him  is  more  than  I  can  guess." 

"  He  thinks  I  can  be  of  service  to  him,  and  I  shall  try." 

"  You'll  try  to  ruin  yourself,  that's  what  you'll  do !  " 

"  Aunt  Hannah,  I  have  but  a  few  minutes  left.  If  you  will 
permit  me,  I  will  just  give  my  horse  some  water  and  go." 

"  Go !  What,  so  suddenly  ?  Lord,  Lord,  and  Reuben  away  out 
in  the  field  and  the  children  with  him!  And  you'll  go  away 
without  taking  a  last  farewell  of  them.  I'll  call  Sam  and  send 
for  them  if  you  will  wait  a  minute.  Sam !  Sam !  Sam !  "  cried 
Hannah,  going  to  the  back  door  and  screaming  at  the  top  of 
her  voice. 

But  no  Sam  was  forthcoming. 

"Plague  take  that  nigger!  I  do  wish  from  the  very  bottom 
of  my  heart  the  deuce  had  him !  Now,  what  shall  I  do  ? "  she 
cried,  returning  to  the  room  and  dropping  into  her  chair. 

Fate  answered  the  question  by  relieving  her  from  her  di 
lemma. 

The  front  door  opened  and  Eeuben  Gray  entered,  leading 
the  two  children  and  saying: 

"  It  was  too  sharp  for  'em  out  there,  Hannah,  my  dear,  es 
pecially  as  Molly,  bless  her,  was  a-sneezin'  dreadful,  as  if  she 
was  a-catchin'  a  cold  in  her  head;  and  so  I  fotch  'em  in." 

"Reuben,  where's  your  eyes?  Don't  you  see  who  is  in  the 
room  ?  Here's  Ishmael !  "  exclaimed  Hannah  irately. 

"  Ishmael !  Why,  so  he  is !  Why,  Lord  bless  you,  boy.  I'm 
so  glad  to  see  you ! "  exclaimed  Reuben,  with  his  honest  face 
all  in  a  glow  of  delight  as  he  shook  his  guest's  hands. 

And  at  the  same  time  the  children  let  go  their  father's  hand, 
and  stood  before  the  young  man,  waiting  eagerly  to  be  noticed. 


170         SELF-RAISED;  OK,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

"Yes,  you  better  look  at  him!  Look  at  him  your  fill  now. 
You'll  never  see  him  again ! "  groaned  Hannah. 

"  Never  see  who  again  ?  What  are  you  talking  about,  Han 
nah,  my  dear  ? " 

"Ishmael!  He's  come  to  bid  a  last  good-by  to  us  all.  He's 
a-going  to  leave  his  native  country!  He's  a-going  to  foreign 
parts ! " 

"  Ishmael  going  to  foreign  parts ! "  exclaimed  Reuben,  gaz 
ing  in  surprise  on  his  young  guest. 

"  Yes,  Uncle  Reuben,  I  am  going  to  England  with  Judge  Mer 
lin  on  business." 

"  Well,  to  be  sure !  that  is  a  surprise !  I  knowed  the  judge 
was  a-going  to  see  his  darter;  but  I  had  no  idee  that  you  was 
a-going  'long  of  him,"  said  Reuben. 

"  When  do  you  go  ?  that  is  what  I  want  to  know,"  cried  Han 
nah  sharply. 

"  We  sail  in  the  '  Oceana '  from  Boston  on  Wednesday ;  and 
that  is  the  reason,  Aunt  Hannah,  why  I  am  so  hurried;  you  see 
I  must  reach  Washington  to-night  so  as  to  finish  up  my  business 
there,  and  take  the  early  train  for  the  North  on  Tuesday 
morning." 

"  What  ?  you  going  in  one  of  them  steamers  ?    Oh,  law !  " 

"  What  is  the  matter,  ma'am  ?  " 

"  I  know  the  steamer  '11  burst  its  boiler,  or  catch  afire,  or 
sink,  or  something !  I  know  it !  " 

"Lord,  Hannah,  don't  dishearten  people  that-a-way!  Why 
should  the  steamer  do  anything  of  the  kind  ? "  said  Reuben, 
with  a  doubtful  and  troubled  air. 

"  Because  they  are  always  and  for  everlasting  a-doing  of 
such  things.  Just  think  what  happened  to  the  'Geyser* — 
burst  her  boiler  and  scalded  everybody  to  death ! " 

"  Law,  Hannah !  that  was  only  one  in  a " 

"  And  the  '  Vesuvius,'  "  fiercely  continued  Hannah ;  "  the 
'  Vesuvius '  caught  on  fire  and  burned  down  to  the  water's  edge, 
and  was  so  found — a  floating  charcoal,  and  every  soul  on  board 
perished." 

"  Lord,  Hannah,  you're  enough  to  make  anybody's  flesh  creep. 
Surely  that  was  only " 

"  And  then  there  was  the  '  Wave,'  as  struck  St.  George's  bar 
and  smashed  all  to  pieces,  and  all  on  board  were  drowned ! " 

*  Well,  but,  Hannah,  you  know " 

"  And  the  '  Boreas,'  that  was  lost  in  a  gale.    And  the  '  White 


HANNAH'S   HAPPY    PROGNOSTICS.  171 

Boar/  that  was  jammed  to  smash  between  two  icebergs.  And 
the  'Platina,'  that  sunk  to  the  bottom  with  a  clear  sky  and  a 
smooth  sea.  Sunk  to  the  bottom  as  if  she  had  been  so  much 
lead.  And  the " 

"  Goodness,  gracious,  me  alive !  And  the  Lord  bless  my  soul, 
Hannah!  You  turn  my  very  blood  to  water  with  your  stories. 
Ishmael,  don't  you  go !  " 

"  Nonsense,  Uncle  Reuben !  You  know  Aunt  Hannah.  She 
cannot  help  looking  on  the  darkest  side.  When  I  was  a  boy, 
she  was  always  prophesying  I'd  be  hung,  you  know.  Positively, 
sometimes  she  made  me  fear  I  might  be,"  said  Ishmael,  smiling, 
and  turning  an  affectionate  glance  upon  his  croaking  relative. 

"Yes,  it's  all  very  well  for  you  to  talk  that  way,  Ishmael 
Worth.  But  I  know  one  thing.  I  know  I  never  heard  of  any 
sort  of  a  ship  going  safe  into  port  more  than  two  or  three  times 
in  the  whole  course  of  my  life.  And  I  have  heard  of  many  and 
many  a  shipwreck ! "  said  Hannah,  nodding  her  head,  with  the 
air  of  one  who  had  just  uttered  a  "  knock-down  "  argument. 

"  Why,  of  course,  Aunt  Hannah.  Because,  in  your  remote 
country  neighborhood  you  always  hear  of  the  wreck  that  hap 
pens  once  in  a  year  or  in  two  years;  but  you  never  hear  of  the 
thousands  upon  thousands  of  ships  that  are  always  making  safe 
voyages." 

'•  Oh,  Ishmael,  hush !  It  won't  do.  I'm  not  convinced.  I 
don't  expect  ever  to  see  you  alive  again." 

"  Law,  Hannah,  my  dear,  don't  be  so  disbelieving.  Really, 
now,  you  disencourage  one." 

"Hold  your  tongue,  Reuben,  you're  a  fool!  I  say  it,  and 
I  stand  to  it,  that  steamer  will  either  burst  her  boiler,  or  catch 
on  fire,  or  sink,  or  something!  And  we  shall  never  see  our 
boy  again." 

Here  little  Molly,  who  had  been  attentively  listening  to  the 
conversation,  and,  like  the  poor  Desdemona,  understood  "  a 
horror  in  the  words,"  if  not  the  words,  opened  her  mouth  and 
set  up  a  howl  that  was  immediately  seconded  by  her  brother. 

It  became  necessary  to  soothe  and  quiet  these  youngsters; 
and  Reuben  lifted  them  both  to  his  knees. 

"  Why,  what's  the  matter  with  pappy's  pets,  then  ?  What's 
all  this  about?"  he  inquired,  tenderly  stroking  their  heads. 

"  Cousin  Ishmael  ia  going  away  to  be  drownded !  Boo-toO* 
woo !  "  bawled  Molly. 

"  And  be  burnt  up,  too !     Ar-r-r-r-r-r-r !  "  roared  Johnny. 


172        SELF-KAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

"  No,  I  am  not  going  to  be  either  one  or  the  other,"  said  the 
subject  of  all  this  interest  cheerfully,  as  he  took  the  children 
from  Reuben  and  enthroned  them  on  his  own  knees.  *'  I  am 
going  abroad  for  a  little  while,  and  I  will  bring  you  ever  so  many 
pretty  things  when  I  come  back." 

They  were  reassured  and  stopped  howling. 

"  How  is  your  doll,  Molly  ? " 

"Her  poor  nose  is  broke."  '    { 

"  I  thought  so.  Well,  I  will  bring  you  a  prettier  and  a  larger 
doll,  that  can  open  and  shut  its  mouth  and  cry." 

"  Oh-h !  "  exclaimed  Molly,  making  great  eyes  in  her  surprise 
and  delight. 

"  Now,  what  else  shall  I  bring  you,  besides  the  new  doll  ? " 

"Another  one." 

"What,  two  dolls?" 

"Yes." 

"Well,  what  else?" 

"Another  one,  too." 

"  Three  dolls !  goodness !  but  tell  me  what  you  would  like  be 
side  the  three  dolls?" 

"  Some  more  dolls,"  persisted  Molly,  with  her  finger  in  her 
mouth. 

"  Whew !  What  would  you  like,  Johnny  ?  "  inquired  Ishmael, 
smiling  on  the  little  boy. 

"  I'd  like  a  hatchet  all  of  my  own.  I  want  one  the  worst  kind 
of  a  way,"  said  Johnny  solemnly. 

"  Shall  I  bring  him  a  little  box  of  dwarf  carpenter  tools, 
Uncle  Reuben  ? "  inquired  Ishmael  doubtfully. 

"Just  as  you  please,  Ishmael.  He  can't  do  much  damage 
with  them  inside,  because  Hannah  is  always  here  to  watch  him; 
and  he  may  hack  and  saw  as  much  as  he  likes  outside,"  said 
Reuben. 

These  points  being  settled,  and  the  children  not  only  soothed, 
but  delighted,  Ishmael  put  them  off  his  knees  and  arose  to  de 
part. 

He  kissed  the  children,  shook  hands  with  Reuben  and  em 
braced  Hannah,  whose  maternal  tenderness  caused  her  to  re 
strain  her  emotions  and  forbear  her  croakings,  lest  she  should 
frighten  the  children  again. 

When  lie  got  outside  he  found  Sam  standing  by  the  horse, 
having  just  given  him  water,  and  being  in  the  act  of  removing 
the  empty  bucket. 


THE   JOUBKEY.  173 

Ishmael  shook  hands  with  him  also,  got  into  the  saddle,  and, 
amid  the  fervent  blessings  of  Reuben  and  Hannah,  recom 
menced  his  journey. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

THE  JOURNEY. 

Love,  hope,  and  joy,  fair  pleasure's  smiling  train) 
Hate,  fear,  and  grief,  the  family  of  pain; 
These  mixed  with  art  and  to  due  bounds  confined, 
Make  and  maintain  the  balance  of  the  mind; 
The  lights  and  shades  whose  well-accorded  strife 
Give  all  the  strength  and  color  to  our  life. 

—Pope. 

Ishmael's  ride  up  to  the  city  was,  upon  the  whole,  as  much 
enjoyed  as  the  ride  down  had  been.  It  is  true  that,  in  the  first 
instance,  he  had  been  going  to  see  Bee ;  and  now  he  was  coming 
away  from  her;  but  he  had  passed  one  whole  day  and  two  pleas 
ant  evenings  in  her  society,  and  he  could  live  a  long  time  on  the 
memory  of  that  visit. 

He  soon  struck  into  his  old  direct  path,  and  calling  at  the 
same  places  where  he  had  changed  horses  on  his  journey  down, 
Le  re-changed  them  on  his  way  up. 

At  Horsehead,  where  he  stopped  to  take  tea,  he  recovered 
his  favorite  brown  horse  Jack,  which  was  in  excellent  condi 
tion  and  carried  him  swiftly  the  rest  of  the  way  to  Washington. 

It  was  ten  o'clock  when  he  drew  rein  at  the  door  of  his 
office,  dismounted,  and  rang. 

The  professor  opened  the  door. 

"Well,  Morris,  all  right  here?"  was  Ishmael's  cheerful 
greeting. 

"All  right,  sir,  now  that  you  have  come.  We  have  been  a 
little  anxious  within  the  last  hour  or  two,  sir;  especially  the 
judge,  who  is  here." 

"  Judge  Merlin  here  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir.  He  came  over  to  wait  for  you.  And  the  two 
young  gentlemen  are  also  here,  sir.  They  came  back  after  tea* 
I  heard  them  say  to  the  judge  they  thought  it  quite  likely  you 
would  have  some  last  things  to  say  to  them  to-night,  and  so  they 
would  wait." 

"  Quite  right,  Morris.    Now  take  my  horse  around  to  the  sta« 


174  BELF-RAISED  J  OR,    FROM   THE   DEPTHS 

bles  and  then  return  as  fast  as  you  can,"  said  Ishmael,  as  hi 
passed  the  professor  and  entered  the  office. 

The  judge  and  the  two  young  clerks  occupied  it. 

The  former  was  walking  up  and  down  the  floor  impatiently* 
The  latter  were  seated  at  their  desks. 

The  judge  turned  quickly  to  greet  his  young  friend. 

"  Oh,  Ishmael,  I  am  so  relieved  that  you  have  come  at  last. 
I  have  been  very  anxious  for  the  last  few  hours." 

"  Why  so,  sir? "  inquired  Ishmael,  as  he  shook  hands  with  the 
old  man.  "  Did  you  not  know  that  I  would  be  punctual  when 
I  gave  you  my  word  to  that  effect  ? " 

"  Oh,  yes ;  but  there  are  such  things  as  accidents,  you  know, 
and  an  accident  would  have  been  very  awkward  on  the  eve  of 
a  voyage.  And  you  are  late,  you  are  late,  you  see ! " 

"  Yes,"  said  Ishmael,  as  he  passed  on  to  speak  to  his  young 
clerks  and  thank  them  for  their  thoughtfulness  in  waiting. 

Then,  while  divesting  himself  of  his  greatcoat,  he  explained 
to  the  judge  the  cause  of  his  short  delay — the  detour  he  had 
made  to  bid  good-by  to  his  old  friends,  Hannah  and  Reuben. 
By  the  time  he  had  done  this,  and  seated  himself,  the  professor 
returned  from  the  livery  stables;  but  he  only  reported  the  safe 
delivery  of  the  horse  and  then  passed  through  the  office  into 
the  house. 

In  a  few  minutes  he  returned,  saying : 

"  Mr.  Worth,  the  ladies  bid  me  say  that  they  had  kept  supper 
waiting  for  you,  and  they  hope  you  will  do  them  the  favor  to 
come  in  and  partake  of  it,  as  it  is  your  last  evening  at  home  for 
some  time.  And  they  will  also  be  very  much  gratified  if  your 
friends  will  come  and  sup  with  you  on  this  occasion." 

"  Will  you  come,  judge  ?  Aiid  you,  too,  gentlemen  ? "  in 
quired  Ishmael,  turning  to  his  companions,  who  all  three  bowed 
assent. 

"  Return  to  the  ladies  and  say  that  I  thank  them  very  much 
for  their  kindness,  and  that  we  will  come  with  pleasure,"  he 
eaid  to  the  professor. 

And  then  with  a  smile  and  a  bow,  and  a  request  to  be  ex 
cused  for  a  few  minutes,  Ishmael  passed  into  his  bedroom  to 
make  some  little  change  in  his  toilet  for  the  evening. 

When  he  rejoined  his  friends  they  went  into  the  supper- 
room,  where  they  found  an  elegant  and  luxurious  feast  laid ; 
and  the  two  fair  old  ladies,  in  their  soft,  plain,  gray  mousseline 
dresses  and  delicate  lace  caps,  waiting  to  do  the  honors.  These 


THE   JOURNEY.  175 

maiden  ladies,  with  their  refinement,  intelligence,  and  b«nevo- 
lence,  had  completely  won  the  affections  of  Ishmael,  who  loved 
them  with  a  filial  reverence. 

There  was  no  one  else  present  in  the  room  except  themselves 
and  a  waiter. 

"  My  dear  Mr.  Worth,"  said  the  elder  lady,  approaching  and 
taking  his  hand,  "  we  hear  that  you  are  going  to  Europe.  How 
sudden,  and  how  we  shall  miss  you !  But  we  hope  that  you  will 
have  a  pleasant  time." 

"  Yes,  indeed ! "  joined  in  her  sister,  coming  up  to  shake 
hands ;  "  we  do  so !  and  I  am  sure  in  church,  yesterday,  when 
we  came  to  that  part  of  the  litany  in  which  we  pray  for  '  all 
who  travel  by  land  or  by  water,'  I  thought  of  you  and  bore  you 
up  on  that  prayer.  And  I  shall  continue  to  do  it  until  you  get 
back  safe." 

"  And  so  shall  I,"  added  the  elder. 

"Thank  you!  thank  you!"  said  Ishmael,  fervently  shaking 
both  their  hands.  "  I  am  sure  if  your  good  wishes  and  pious 
prayers  can  effect  it,  I  shall  have  a  pleasant  and  prosperous 
voyage." 

"  That  you  will,"  they  simultaneously  and  cordially  re 
sponded. 

"  And  now  permit  me  to  introduce  my  friends :  Judge  Mer 
lin,  Mr.  Smith,  Mr.  Jones." 

The  gentlemen  bowed  and  the  ladies  courtesied,  and  they  pres 
ently  sat  down  to  supper.  The  conversation  turned  on  the  pro 
jected  voyage. 

"  Judge,  you  will  have  an  unexpected  fellow-passenger — an 
«ld  friend,"  said  Ishmael. 

"  Ah !  who  is  he  ? "  sighed  the  judge,  who  never  spoke  now 
•without  a  sigh. 

"  Mr.  Brudenell  is  going  over  in  the  '  Oceana.'  " 

"Indeed!     What  takes  him  over?" 

"  I  do  not  know ;  unless  it  is  the  desire  of  seeing  his  mother 
and  sisters.  He  did  not  tell  me,  and  I  did  not  ask  him.  In 
fact,  we  had  so  short  a  time  together  there  was  no  opportunity." 

"  Oh !  you  have  seen  him  ?  Where  did  you  meet  him  ?  And 
where  is  he  now  ?  " 

"  I  met  him  at  the  Beacon,  en  route  for  Washington.  He 
left  there  this  morning,  to  embark  on  the  '  Errand  Boy,'  which 
expects  to  reach  the  city  to-morrow,  in  time  for  the  express 
train  ISTorth." 


176         SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

"Ah!  coming  by  the  'Errand  Boy,'  is  he?  That's  a  risk, 
under  all  the  circumstances,  for  the  '  Errand  Boy '  is  sometimes 
three  or  four  hours  behind  time.  And  if  he  should  miss  the 
early  train  to-morrow  morning  he  can  never  be  in  time  to  meet 
the  Boston  steamer,  that  is  certain.  Why  couldn't  he  have 
dashed  up  on  horseback  with  you  ? " 

"  I  fancy,  sir,  he  was  not  strong  enough  to  bear  such  a  forced 
ride  as  I  was  obliged  to  undertake." 

As  it  was  eleven  o'clock  when  they  arose  from  the  supper- 
table  the  judge  almost  immediately  took  his  leave,  having  pre 
viously  arranged  with  Ishmael  to  join  him  at  his  hotel  the  next 
morning,  to  proceed  from  there  to  the  station. 

The  two  young  clerks  remained  longer,  to  go  over  certain 
documents  with  their  employer,  and  receive  his  final  instruc 
tions.  When  they  had  departed,  Ishmael  went  into  his  bed 
room,  where  he  found  the  professor  waiting  for  him. 

"  At  last ! "  said  the  latter,  as  his  master  entered. 

"  What,  Morris,  you  up  yet  ?  Do  you  know  what  time  it  is  ?  " 
demanded  Ishmael,  in  surprise. 

"  Yes,  sir ;  it  is  two  o'clock  in  the  morning." 

"  Then  you  know  you  ought  to  have  been  in  bed,  hours  ago." 

"  Law,  Mr.  Worth — I  couldn't  have  slept,  sir,  if  I  had  gone  to 
bed.  I'm  rising  sixty  years  old,  but  I  am  just  as  much  excited 
over  this  voyage  to  England  as  if  I  was  a  boy  of  sixteen.  To 
think  I  shall  see  St.  Paul's  Cathedral,  sir!  Aint  the  thought 
of  that  enough  to  keep  a  man's  eyes  open  all  night?  And  to 
think  it  is  all  through  you,  young  Ish — Mr.  Worth.  If  it  wasn't 
for  you,  I  might  be  vegetating  on,  in  that  cabin,  in  old  St. 
Mary's,  with  no  more  chance  of  improving  my  mind  than  the 
cattle  that  browse  around  it.  God  bless  you,  sir ! " 

"Ah,  professor,  if  at  your  age  I  have  such  a  fresh,  young, 
evergreen  heart,  and  such  an  aspiring,  progressive  spirit  as 
yours,  I  shall  think  the  Lord  has  blessed  me.  But  now  go  to 
bed,  old  friend,  and  recruit  your  strength  for  the  journey. 
Though  '  the  spirit  is  willing,  the 'flesh  is  weak,'  you  know.  The 
soul  is  immortal,  but  the  body  is  perishable;  so  you  must  take 
care  of  it." 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  will,  just  because  you  tell  me.  But  I  want  to 
show  you  first  what  preparations  I  have  made  for  the  voyage, 
to  see  if  you  approve  them.  You  see,  sir,  when  you  went  off  to 
St.  Mary's  so  sudden,  and  left  me  to  pack  up  your  clothes,  it 
just  struck  me  that  there  must  be  many  things  wanted  on  a 


THE   JOURNEY.  177 

sea- voyage  as  is  not  wanted  on  land;  but  of  coursa  I  didn't 
know  exactly  what  they  were.  So  after  cogitating  a  while,  I 
remembered  that  the  judge  had  been  to  Europe  several  times, 
and  would  know  all  about  it,  and  so  I  just  made  bold  to  go  and 
ask  him.  And  he  told  me  what  you  would  require.  And  I 
went  and  got  it,  sir.  Please,  look  here,"  said  the  professor, 
raising  the  lid  of  a  trunk. 

"You  are  very  thoughtful,  Morris.  You  are  a  real  help  to 
me,"  said  Ishmael,  smiling. 

"  You  see,  here  are  the  warm,  fine,  dark  flannel  shirts,  to  be 
frorn  instead  of  linen  ones  on  the  voyage.  And  here  is  a  thick 
woolen  scarf.  And  here  is  your  sea  cap.  And  oh,  here  is  your 
sea  suit — of  coarse  pepper  and  salt.  And  if  you  believe  me, 
sir,  I  went  and  gave  the  order  to  your  tailor  on  Saturday  morn 
ing,  and  told  him  the  necessity  for  haste,  and  he  sent  the 
clothes  home  before  twelve  o'clock  at  night.  I'm  only  afraid 
they'll  hang  like  a  bag  on  you,  sir,  as  the  tailor  had  nothing 
but  your  business  suit  to  measure  them  by,  though,  to  be  sure, 
the  fit  of  a  sea  suit  isn't  much  matter,  sir." 

"  Certainly  not.  You  are  a  treasure  to  me,  Morris ;  but  if  you 
do  not  go  to  bed  now  and  recruit  your  strength,  my  treasure 
may  be  endangered." 

"  I'm  going  now,  sir ;  only  I  want  to  call  your  attention  to 
the  books  I  have  put  into  your  trunk,  sir.  I  thought  as  we 
could  only  take  a  very  few,  I  had  better  put  in  the  Bible,  and 
Shakspeare,  and  Milton,  sir." 

"An  admirable  selection,  Morris.  Good-night,  dear  old 
friend." 

"Good-night,  sir;  but  please  take  notice  I  have  put  in  a 
chess  board  and  set  of  chessmen." 

"All  right,  professor.     Good-night,"  repeated  Ishmael. 

"Yes,  sir;  good-night!  And  there's  a  first-rate  spy-glass,  as 
I  thought  you'd  like  to  have  to  see  distant  objects." 

"  Thank  you,  prof essotr.  Good-night !  "  reiterated  Ishmael, 
scarcely  able  to  restrain  his  laughter. 

"  Good-night,  sir.  And  there's  some — well,  I  see  you're 
laughing  at  me." 

"No,  no,  professor!  or,  if  I  was,  it  was  in  sympathy  and 
pleasure;  not  in  derision — Heaven  forbid!  Your  boyish  inter 
est  in  this  voyage  is  really  charming  to  me,  professor.  But  you 
must  retire,  old  friend;  indeed  you  must.  You  know  we  will 
have  plenty  of  time  to  look  over  these  things  when  we  get  or. 


178         SELF-RAISED;  OB,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

board  the  steamer,"  said  Ishmael,  taking  the  old  man's  handj 
cordially  shaking  it,  and  resolutely  dismissing  him  to  rest. 

And  Ishmael  himself  retired  to  bed  and  to  sleep,  and  being 
very  much  fatigued  with  his  long  ride,  he  slept  soundly  until 
morning. 

Though  the  professor  was  too  much  excited  by  the  thoughts 
of  his  voyage  to  , sleep  much,  yet  he  was  up  with  the  earliest 
dawn  of  morning,  moving  about  softly  in  his  master's  room, 
strapping  down  the  trunks  and  laying  out  traveling  clothes 
and  toilet  apparatus. 

The  kind  old  maiden  ladies  also  bestirred  themselves  earlier 
than  usual  this  morning,  that  their  young  favorite  should  en 
joy  one  more  comfortable  breakfast  before  he  left. 

And  so  when  Ishmael  was  dressed  and  had  just  dispatched 
the  professor  to  the  stand  to  engage  a  hack  to  take  them  to  the 
station,  and  while  he  was  thinking  of  nothing  better  in  the 
way  of  a  morning  meal  than  the  weak,  muddy  coffee  and  ques 
tionable  bread  and  butter  of  the  railway  restaurant,  he  re 
ceived  a  summons  to  the  dining  room,  where  he  found  his  two 
hostesses  presiding  over  a  breakfast  of  Mocha  coffee,  hot  rolls, 
buckwheat  cakes,  poached  eggs,  broiled  salmon,  stewed  oysters, 
and  roast  partridges. 

Our  young  man  had  a  fine  healthy  appetite  of  his  own,  and 
could  enjoy  this  repast  as  well  as  any  epicure  alive;  but  better 
than  all  to  his  affectionate  heart  was  the  motherly  kindness 
that  had  brought  these  two  delicate  old  ladies  out  of  their  beds 
at  this  early  hour  to  give  him  a  breakfast. 

They  had  their  reward  in  seeing  how  heartily  he  ate.  There 
«-as  no  one  at  the  table  but  himself  and  themselves;  and  they 
pressed  the  food  upon  him,  reminding  him  how  long  a  journey 
he  would  have  to  make  before  he  could  sit  down  to  another 
comfortable  meal. 

And  when  Ishmael  had  breakfasted  and  thanked  them,  and  r^- 
turned  to  his  rooms  to  tie  up  some  last  little  parcels,  they 
Called  in  the  professor,  who  had  now  come  back,  and  they  plied 
him  with  all  the  luxuries  on  the  breakfast  table. 

And  when  to  their  great  satisfaction  the  old  man  had  made 
an  astonishing  meal  and  risen  from  the  table,  they  beckoned 
him  mysteriously  aside  and  gave  a  well-filled  hamper  into  his 
charge,  saying: 

"You  know,  professor,  it  is  a  long  journey  from  Washing 
ton  to  Boston,  and  in  going  straight  through  you  can't  get  any 


THE   JOURNEY.  179 

thing  fit  to  eat  on  the  road ;  and  so  we  have  packed  this  hamper 
for  your  master.  There's  ham  sandwiches  and  chicken  pie, 
and  roast  partridges  and  fried  oysters,  and  French  rolls  and 
celery,  and  plenty  of  pickles  and  pepper  and  salt  and  things. 
And  I  have  put  in  some  plates  and  knives  and  napkins,  all 
comfortable." 

The  professor  thanked  them  heartily  on  the  part  of  his  mas 
ter;  and  took  the  hamper  immediately  to  the  hack  that  was 
standing  before  the  door. 

Ishmael  had  already  caused  the  luggage  to  be  carried  out 
and  placed  on  the  hack,  and  now  nothing  remained  to  be  done 
but  to  take  leave  of  the  two  old  ladies.  He  shook  hands  with 
them  affectionately,  and  they  blessed  him  fervently.  And  as 
Boon  as  he  had  got  into  the  hack  and  it  had  driven  off  with  him, 
they  turned  and  clasped  each  other  around  the  neck  and  cried. 

Truly  Ishmael's  good  qualities  had  made  him  deeply  beloved. 

When  the  hack  reached  the  hotel,  Ishmael  found  Judge  Mer 
lin,  all  greatcoated  and  shawled,  walking  up  and  down  before 
the  door  with  much  impatience.  His  luggage  had  been  brought 
down. 

"  You  see  I  am  in  time,  judge." 

"  Yes,  Ishmael.  Good-morning.  I  was  afraid  you  would  not 
be,  however.  I  was  afraid  you  would  oversleep  yourself  after 
your  hard  ride.  But  have  you  breakfasted  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes !  My  dear  old  friends  were  up  before  day  to  have 
breakfast  with  me." 

"  I  tell  you  what,  Ishmael,  they  are  really  two  charming  old 
ladies,  and  if  ever  I  get  right  again  and  spend  another  winter 
in  this  city,  I  will  try  to  get  them  to  take  me  to  board.  They 
would  make  a  home  for  a  man,"  said  the  judge. 

While  they  were  talking  the  porters  were  busy  putting  Judge 
Merlin's  luggage  upon  Ishmael's  hack. 

"  You  have  not  heard  whether  the  '  Errand  Boy  "  has  reached 
the  wharf  ?  "  inquired  Ishmael. 

"  Not  a  word.  There  has  been  no  arrival  here  this  morning 
from  any  quarter,  as  I  understand  from  the  head  waiter." 

"I  am  really  afraid  Mr.  Brudenell  will  miss  the  train." 

"  If  he  does  he  will  miss  the  voyage  also.  But  we  must  not 
risk  such  a  misfortune.  Get  in,  boy,  get  in !  "  said  the  judge, 
hastily  entering  the  hack. 

Ishmael  followed  his  example.  The  professor  climbed  up  to  a 
seat  beside  the  driver  and  the  hack  moved  off.  They  reached 


180         SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

the  railway  station  just  in  time.  In  fact  they  had  not  a  moment 
to  lose. 

They  had  just  got  seated  in  the  cars,  and  were  expecting  the 
signal  whistle  to  shriek  out  every  instant,  when  Ishmael,  who 
was  seated  nearest  the  window,  saw  a  gentleman  in  a  great 
coat,  and  with  his  shawl  over  his  arm,  and  his  umbrella  and  hat- 
box  in  his  hand,  hurrying  frantically  past. 

"  There  is  Mr.  Brudenell  now ! "  he  exclaimed  with  pleasure, 
as  he  tapped  upon  the  window  to  attract  that  gentleman's  at 
tention. 

Mr.  Brudenell  looked  up,  nodded  quickly,  and  darted  on, 
and  the  next  moment  hurried  in  at  the  end  door  of  the  car 
and  came  down  to  them  just  as  the  signal  whistle  shrieked  out 
and  the  train  started. 

Ishmael  reserved  the  seat  in  front  of  himself  and  the  judge, 
and  invited  Mr.  Brudenell  to  take  it. 

The  latter  gentleman  dropped  into  his  place  and  then  held 
out  his  hand  to  greet  his  fellow-passengers. 

"  So  you  are  going  with  us  to  England.  I  am  very  glad  of 
it,"  said  the  judge,  though  in  fact  he  looked  very  pale  and  worn, 
as  if  he  never  could  be  glad  again  in  this  world. 

"  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Brudenell,  "  I  am  very  glad  indeed  to  be  of 
your  party.  Good-morning,  Worth !  " 

"  Good-morning,  sir !  You  were  very  fortunate  to  catch  the 
train." 

"  Very !  I  was  within  half  a  minute  of  missing  it.  I  had 
a  run  for  it,  I  assure  you." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir !  Have  you  breakfasted  ?  "  here  in 
quired  the  professor,  in  all  the  conscious  importance  of  carry 
ing  a  hamper. 

"Ah,  professor!  how  do  you  do?  You  are  never  going  to 
Europe  ? "  exclaimed  Mr.  Brudenell,  in  surprise. 

"Yes,  sir.  I  go  wherever  my  master  leads,  sir.  Mr.  Worth 
and  his  humble  servant  will  never  be  separated  till  death  do 
them  part.  But  about  your  breakfast,  sir?" 

"  Why,  truly,  no,  I  have  not  breakfasted,  unless  a  cup  of  sus 
picious-looking  liquid  called  coffee,  drunk  at  the  railway  table, 
could  be  called  breakfast." 

The  professor  sat  his  hamper  on  his  knees,  opened  it,  and 
began  to  reveal  its  hidden  treasures. 

Ishmael  laughed,  expressed  his  surprise,  and  inquired  of 
Morris  what  cook  shop  he  patronized. 


\THE   JOURNEY.  181 

'And  then  the  professor  explained  the  kind  forethought  of  the 
old  ladies  who  had  provided  these  luxuries  for  his  journey. 

"  I  declare  I  will  live  with  them  if  they  will  let  me,  if  ever  I 
spend  another  winter  in  Washington!  One  could  enjoy  what 
is  so  often  promised,  so  seldom  given — '  the  comforts  of  a 
home' — with  those  old  ladies,"  said  the  judge  fervently. 

Mr.  Brudenell  made  a  very  satisfactory  meal  off  half  a  dozen 
French  rolls,  a  roasted  partridge  and  a  hottle  of  claret.  And 
then  while  he  was  wiping  his  mouth  and  the  professor  was  re 
packing  the  hamper  and  throwing  the  waste  out  of  the  window, 
Judge  Merlin  turned  to  Mr.  Brudenell,  and,  with  an  old  man's 
freedom,  inquired: 

"  Pray,  sir,  may  I  ask,  what  procures  us  the  pleasure — and  it 
is  indeed  a  great  pleasure — of  your  company  across  the  water  ?  " 

A  shade  of  the  deepest  grief  and  mortification  fell  over  the 
face  of  Herman  Brudenell,  as  bending  his  head  to  the  ear  of 
his  questioner,  and  speaking  in  a  low  voice,  he  replied: 

"  Family  matters,  of  so  painful  and  humiliating  a  nature  as 
not  to  be  discussed  in  a  railway  car,  or  scarcely  anywhere  else, 
in  fact." 

"  Pardon  me,"  said  the  judge,  speaking  in  the  same  low  tone ; 
"  some  malignant  star  must  reign.  Had  you  asked  the  same 
question  of  me,  concerning  the  motives  of  my  journey,  I  might 
have  truly  answered  you  in  the  very  same  words." 

And  the  old  man  groaned  deeply;  while  Ishmael  silently 
wondered  what  the  family  matters  could  be  of  which  Mr. 
Brudenell  spoke. 

A  modern  railway  journey  is  without  incident  or  adventure 
worth  recording,  unless  it  be  an  occasional  disastrous  collision. 
~No  such  calamity  befell  this  train.  Our  travelers  talked,  dozed, 
eat,  and  drank  a  little  through  their  twenty-four  hours'  jour 
ney.  At  noon  they  reached  Philadelphia,  at  eve  New  York,  at 
at  midnight  Springfield,  and  the  next  morning  Boston. 

It  was  just  sunrise  as  they  arose  and  stretched  their  weary 
limbs  and  left  the  train.  They  had  but  an  hour  to  spare  to  go 
to  a  hotel  and  refresh  themselves  with  a  bath,  a  change  of 
clothes,  and  a  breakfast  before  it  was  time  to  go  on  board  their 
steamer. 

They  were  the  last  passengers  on  board.  Fortunately,  at 
this  season  of  the  year  there  are  comparatively  but  few  voy 
agers.  The  best  staterooms  in  the  first  cabin,  to  use  a  com 
mon  phrase,  "went  a-begging." 


182         SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

And  Judge  Merlin,  Mr.  Brudenell,  and  Ishmael  were  each 
accommodated  with  a  separate  stateroom  "  amidships." 

The  professor  was  provided  with  a  good  berth  in  the  second 
cabin. 

There  were  about  thirty  other  passengers  in  the  first  cabin, 
as  many  in  the  second,  and  quite  a  large  number  in  th(* 
steerage. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

THE  VOYAGE. 

Tbalatta!    Thalatta! 
I  greet  thee,  thou  ocean  eternal! 
I  give  thee  ten  thousand  times  greeting, 

My  whole  soul  exulting! 

— Heine. 

It  was  a  splendid  winter  morning,  and  Boston  harbor,  with 
its  shipping,  presented  a  magnificent  appearance,  lighted  up  by 
the  rising  sun,  as  the  "  Oceana  "  steamed  out  towards  the  open 
sea. 

Our  three  friends  stood  in  the  after  part  of  the  deck,  gazing 
upon  the  dear  native  land  they  were  leaving  behind  them.  The 
professor  waited  in  respectful  attendance  upon  them. 

A  little  way  from  the  shore  the  signal  gun  was  fired;  the 
farewell  gun !  how  it  brought  back  to  the  father's  memory  that 
moment  of  agony  when  the  signal  gun  of  another  steamer 
struck  the  knell  of  his  parting  with  his  only  daughter,  and 
seemed  to  break  his  heart ! 

He  was  going  to  Claudia  now,  but  oh!  how  should  he  find 
her?  Who  could  tell? 

Still  there  was  hope  in  the  thought  that  he  was  going  to  her, 
and  there  was  exhilaration  in  the  wide  expanse  of  sparkling 
waters,  in  the  splendid  winter  sky,  in  the  fresh  sea-breeze,  and 
in  the  swift  motion  of  the  steamer. 

His  eyes,  however,  with  those  of  all  his  party,  were  fixed 
upon  the  beloved  receding  shore;  for  so  smooth  as  yet  was  the 
motion  of  the  steamer  that  it  did  not  seem  to  be  so  much  the 
"  Oceana  "  that  was  sailing  eastward,  as  the  shore  that  was  re 
ceding  and  dropping  down  below  the  western  horizon. 

They  stood  watching  it  until  all  the  prominent  objects  grew 
gradually  indistinct  and  became  blended  in  each  other;  nhen 


THE    VOYAGE.  183 

until  the  dimly  diversified  boundary  faded  into  a  faint  irregu 
lar  blue  line;  then  until  it  vanished.  Only  then  they  left  the 
deck  and  went  down  into  the  cabin  to  explore  their  staterooma. 

Ishmael  found  the  professor,  who  had  gone  down  a  few 
minutes  before  him,  busy  unpacking  his  master's  sea  trunK, 
and  getting  him,  as  he  said : 

"  Comfortably  to  housekeeping  for  the  next  two  weeks." 

When  Ishmael  entered  the  professor  was  just  in  the  act  of 
setting  up  the  three  books  that  comprised  the  sea  library,  care 
fully  arranging  them  on  a  tiny  circular  shelf  in  the  corner. 
One  of  the  stateroom  stewards  who  stood  watching  the  "  land 
lubber's  "  operations  sarcastically  said : 

"How  long,  friend,  do  you  expect  them  books  to  stand 
there?" 

"  Until  my  master  takes  them  down,  sir,"  politely  answered 
the  professor. 

"  Well,  now,  they'll  stand  there  maybe  until  we  get  out 
among  the  big  waves ;  when,  at  the  first  lurch  of  the  ship,  down 
they'll  tumble  upon  somebody's  head." 

" '  Sufficient  unto  the  day ' "  said  the  professor,  perse 
vering  in  his  housekeeping  arrangements. 

All  that  day  there  was  nothing  to  threaten  the  equilibrium 
of  the  books.  A  splendid  first  day's  sail  they  had.  The  sky 
was  clear  and  bright;  the  sea  serene  and  sparkling;  the  wind 
fresh  and  fair;  and  the  motion  of  the  steamer  smooth  and  swift. 
Our  travelers,  despite  the  care  at  the  bottom  of  their  hearts, 
enjoyed  it  immensely.  Who,  with  a  remnant  of  hope  remain 
ing  to  them,  can  fail  to  sympathize  with  the  beauty,  glory,  and 
rapture  of  Nature  in  her  best  moods? 

At  dinner  they  feasted  with  such  good  appetites  as  to  call 
forth  a  jocose  remark  from  a  fellow-passenger  who  seemed  to 
be  an  experienced  voyager.  He  proved,  in  fact,  to  be  a  retired 
sea-captain,  who  was  making  this  voyage  partly  for  business, 
partly  for  pleasure.  He  was  an  unusually  tall  and  stout  old 
gentleman,  with  a  stately  carriage,  a  full,  red  face,  and  gray 
hair  and  beard. 

"  That  is  right.  Go  it  while  you're  well,  friends !  For  in 
all  human  probability  this  is  the  last  comfortable  meal  you  will 
«*njoy  for  many  a  day,"  he  said. 

Those  whom  he  addressed  looked  up  in  surprise  and  smiled 
<tn  doubt. 

The  splendid  sunny  day  was  followed  by  a  brilliant  starlight 


184         SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

night,  in  which  all  the  favorable  circumstances  of  the  voyage, 
so  far,  continued. 

After  tea  the  passengers  went  on  deck  to  enjoy  the  beauty 
of  the  evening. 

"  What  do  you  think,  Captain  Mountz  ? "  inquired  a  gentle 
man,  "  will  this  fair  wind  continue  long  ?  " 

"  What  the  deuce  is  the  wind  to  me  ?  I'm  a  passenger,"  re 
sponded  the  irresponsible  retired  captain. 

They  remained  on  deck  enjoying  the  starlit  glory  of  the  sea 
and  sky  until  a  late  hour,  when,  fatigued  and  sleepy,  they  went 
below  and  sought  their  berths.  To  new  voyagers  there  is  in 
the  first  night  at  sea  something  so  novel,  so  wild,  so  weird,  so 
really  unearthly,  that  few,  if  any,  can  sleep.  They  have  left 
the  old,  still,  safe  land  far  behind,  and  are  out  in  the  dark 
upon  the  strange,  unstable,  perilous  sea.  It  is  a  new  element, 
a  new  world,  a  new  life;  and  the  novelty,  the  restlessness,  and 
even  the  dangers,  have  a  fascination  that  charms  the  imagina 
tion  and  banishes  repose.  A  few  voyages  cure  one  of  these 
fancies;  but  this  is  how  a  novice  feels. 

And  thus  it  was  with  Ishmael.  Fatigued  as  he  was,  he  lay 
awake  in  his  berth,  soothed  by  the  motion  of  the  vessel  and  the 
sound  of  the  sea,  until  near  morning,  when  at  length  he  fell 
into  a  deep  sleep.  It  was  destined  to  be  a  brief  one,  however. 

Soon  every  passenger  was  waked  up  by  the  violent  rolling 
and  tossing  of  the  ship;  the  creaking  and  groaning  of  the  rig 
ging;  the  howling  and  shrieking  of  the  wind,  and  the  rising 
and  falling  of  the  waves. 

All  the  brave  and  active  passengers  tumbled  up  out  of  their 
berths  and  dressed  quickly,  while  the  timid  and  indolent  cow 
ered  under  their  sheets  and  waited  the  issue. 

Ishmael  was  among  the  first  on  deck.     Day  was  dawning. 

Here  all  hands  were  on  the  alert:  the  captain  swearing  his 
orders  as  fast  as  they  could  be  obeyed.  One  set  of  men  were 
rapidly  taking  in  sail.  Another  set  were  seeing  to  the  life 
boats.  The  sea  was  running  mountains  high;  the  ship  rolling 
fearfully;  the  wind  so  fierce  that  Ishmael  could  scarcely  stand. 

He  saw  old  Captain  Mountz  on  deck,  and  appealed  to  him. 

"  We  are  likely  to  have  a  heavy  gale  ?  " 

"  Oh,  a  capful  of  wind !  Only  a  capful  of  wind !  "  contempt 
uously  replied  that  "old  salt,"  who,  by  the  way,  through  the 
•whole  of  the  tempestuous  voyage  could  not  be  induced  to  ac 
knowledge  that  they  had  had  a  single  gale  worth  noticing. 


THE   VOYAGE. 

But  the  wind  increased  in  violence  and  the  sea  arose  in 
wrath,  and  to  battle  they  went,  with  their  old  irreconcilable 
hatred.  And  yet,  notwithstanding  the  fury  of  wind  and  wave, 
the  sun  arose  upon  a  perfectly  clear  sky. 

Ishmael  remained  on  deck  watching  the  fierce  warring  of  the 
elements  until  the  second  breakfast  bell  rung,  when  he  went 
below. 

Neither  Judge  Merlin  nor  Mr.  Brudenell  was  at  the  breafe- 
fast  table.  In  fact  there  was  no  one  in  the  saloon,  except  Cap 
tain  Mountz  and  two  or  three  other  seasoned  old  voyagers. 

The  remainder  of  the  passengers  were  all  dreadfully  ill  in 
their  berths.  The  prediction  of  the  old  captain  was  fulfilled 
in  their  cases  at  least;  they  had  eaten  the  last  comfortable 
meal  they  could  enjoy  for  many  days. 

As  soon  as  Ishmael  had  eaten  his  breakfast  he  went  below  in 
search  of  the  companions  of  his  voyage. 

He  found  the  judge  lying  flat  on  his  back,  with  his  hands 
clasping  his  temples,  and  praying  only  to  be  let  alone. 

The  stateroom  steward  was  standing  over  him,  bullying  him 
with  a  cup  of  black  tea,  which  he  insisted  upon  his  taking, 
whether  or  no. 

"If  he  drinks  it,  sir,  he  will  have  something  to  throw  up; 
which  will  be  better  for  him  than  all  this  empty  retching. 
And  after  he  has  thrown  up  he  will  be  all  right,  and  be  able  to 
get  up  and  eat  his  breakfast  and  go  on  deck,"  said  the  man,  ap 
pealing  to  Ishmael. 

"Ishmael,  kick  that  rascal  out  of  my  room,  and  break  his 
neck  and  throw  him  overboard ! "  cried  the  judge,  in  anguish 
and  desperation. 

"  Friend,  don't  you  know  better  than  to  exasperate  a  sea^ 
sick  man?  Leave  him  to  me  until  he  is  better,"  said  Ishmael,, 
amiling  on  the  well-meaning  steward. 

"  But,  sir,  if  he  would  drink  this  tea  he  would  throw  up 
and » 

"Ishmael,  will  you  strangle  that  diabolical  villain  and  pitch 
him  into  the  sea  ? "  thundered  the  judge. 

The  "  diabolical  villain  "  raised  his  disengaged  hand  in  depre 
cation  and  withdrew,  carrying  the  cup  of  tea  in  the  other. 

"  And  now,  Ishmael,  take  yourself  off,  and  leave  me  in  peace. 
I  hate  you !  and  I  loathe  the  whole  human  race!  " 

Ishmael  left  the  stateroom,  meditating  on  the  demoralizing 
nature  of  seasickness. 


186         SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE 

He  next  visited  Mr.  Brudenell,  whom  he  found  in  a.  paroxysm 
of  illness,  with  another  stateroom  steward  holding  the  basin 
for  him. 

"  Ugh !  ugh !  ugh !  "  moaned  the  victim.  "  This  heaving,  ris 
ing,  falling  sea !  And  this  reeling,  pitching,  tossing  ship  I 
If  it  would  only  stop  for  one  moment !  I  should  be  glad  of  any 
thing  that  would  stop  it — even  a  fire ! " 

"  1  am  sorry  to  see  you  suffering  so  much,  sir !  Can  I 
do  anything  for  you?"  inquired  Ishmael  sympathetically. 

"  Ugh !  ugh !  ugh  1  No !  Hold  the  basin  for  me  again,  Bob ! 
No,  Ishmael,  you  can  do  nothing  for  me!  only  do  go  away!  I 
hate  anyone  to  see  me  in  this  debasing  sickness!  for  it  is  de 
basing,  Ishmael !  Ugh !  the  basin,  Bob !  quick !  " 

Ishmael  backed  out  in  double-quick  time. 

And  next  he  found  his  way  to  the  second  cabin,  to  the  bed 
side  of  the  professor. 

Apparently  Jim  Morris  had  just  suffered  a  very  severe 
paroxysm ;  for  he  lay  back  on  his  pillow  with  pale,  sharp,  sunken 
features  and  almost  breathless  lungs. 

"  I  am  sorry  tc  see  you  so  ill,  professor,"  said  Ishmael  ten 
derly,  laying  his  hand  on  the  old  man's  forehead. 

"  It  is  nothing,  Mr.  Ishmael,  sir,  only  a  little  seasickness,  as 
all  the  passengers  have.  I  dare  say  it  will  soon  be  over.  I  am 
only  concerned  because  I  can't  come  and  wait  on  you,"  said 
the  professor,  speaking  faintly,  and  with  a  great  effort. 

"Never  mind  that,  dear  old  friend.  I  can  wait  on  myself 
very  well;  and  on  you,  too,  while  you  need  attention." 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Ishmael,  sir !  You  are  much  too  kind ;  but  I  shall 
be  all  right  in  a  little  time,  and  am  so  glad  you  are  not  sick, 
too." 

"  No ;  I  am  not  sick,  Morris.  But  I  am  afraid  that  you  have 
been  suffering  very  much,"  said  Ishmael,  as  he  noticed  the  old 
man's  pallid  countenance. 

"Oh,  no,  Mr.  Ishmael!  Don't  disturb  yourself.  I  shall  be 
better  soon.  You  see,  when  I  was  very  bad  they  persuaded  me 
to  drink  a  pint  of  sea-water,  which  really  made  me  much  worse, 
though  it  was  all  well  meant.  But  now  I  am  better.  And  I 
think  I  will  try  to  get  up  on  deck.  Why,  law,  seasickness  aint 
pleasant,  to  be  sure;  but  then  it  is  worth  while  to  bear  it  for 
the  sake  of  crossing  the  sea  and  beholding  the  other  hemi 
sphere,"  said  Jim  Morris,  trying  to  smile  over  his  own  illnew 
and  Ishmael's  commiseration. 


THE   VOYAGE.  187 

"God  bless  you,  for  a  patient,  gentle-spirited  old  man  and  a 
true  philosopher!  When  you  are  able  to  rise,  Morris,  I  will 
give  you  my  arm  up  on  deck  and  have  a  pallet  made  for  you 
there,  and  the  fresh  air  will  do  you  good." 

"  Thank  you,  thank  you,  Mr.  Ishmael !  It  is  good  to  be  ill 
when  one  is  so  kindly  cared  for.  Isn't  there  a  gale,  sir  ? " 

"  Yes,  Morris,  a  magnificent  one !  The  old  enemies,  wind 
and  sea,  are  in  their  most  heroic  moods,  and  are  engaged  in  a 
pitched  battle.  This  poor  ship,  like  a  neutral  power,  is  suffer 
ing  somewhat  from  the  assaults  of  both." 

"  I  think  I  will  go  and  look  on  that  battlefield,"  smiled  the 
professor,  trying  to  rise. 

Ishmael  helped  him,  and  when  he  was  dressed  gave  him  his 
arm  and  took  him  up  on  deck,  at  the  same  time  requesting  one 
of  the  second-cabin  stewards  to  follow  with  a  rug  and  cushion. 

This  man,  wondering  at  the  affectionate  attention  paid  by 
the  stately  young  gentleman  to  his  sick  servant,  followed  them 
up  and  made  the  professor  a  pallet  near  the  wheel-house,  on  the 
deck. 

When,  with  the  assistance  of  the  steward,  Ishmael  had  made 
his  old  retainer  comfortable,  he  placed  himself  with  his  shoul 
ders  against  the  back  of  the  wheel-house  to  steady  himself,  for 
the  ship  was  rolling  terribly,  and  he  stood  gazing  forth  upon 
tiie  stormy  surface  of  the  sea. 

A  magnificent  scene !  The  whole  ocean,  from  the  central 
speck  on  which  he  stood  to  the  vast,  vanishing  circle  of  the 
horizon,  seemed  one  boundless,  boiling  caldron.  Millions  of 
waves  were  simultaneously  leaping  in  thunder  from  the  abyss 
and  rearing  themselves  into  blue  mountain  peaks,  capped  with 
white  foam,  and  sparkling  in  the  sunlight  for  a  moment,  to  be 
swallowed  up  in  the  darkness  of  the  roaring  deep  the  next.  A 
lashing,  tossing,  heaving,  foaming,  glancing  rise  and  fall  of 
liquid  mountains  and  valleys,  awful,  but  ravishing,  to  look  on. 

Ishmael  stood  leaning  against  the  wheel-house,  with  his  arms 
folded  and  his  eyes  gazing  out  at  sea.  His  whole  soul  was 
exalted  to  reverence  and  worship,  and  he  murmured  within 
himself : 

"  It  is  the  Lord  that  commandeth  the  waters;  it  is  the  glorious 
God  that  maketh  the  thunder! 

"It  is  the  Lord  that  rul^th  the  sea;  the  voice  of  the  Lord  is 
mighty  in  operation ;  the  voice  of  the  Lord  is  a  glorious  voice ! " 

Ae  for  the  professor,  he  lay  propped  up  at  his  master's  feet, 


188        SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

and  looking  forth  upon  the  mighty  war  of  wind  and  wave. 
The  sight  had  subdued  him.  He  was  content  only  to  exist 
and  enjoy. 


CHAPTER  XXVL 

THE  STORM. 

Colder  and  lender  blew  the  wind, 

A  gale  from  the  northeast; 
The  snow  fell  hissing  in  the  brine; 

And  the  billows  foamed  like  yeast. "} 

Down  came  the  storm  and  smote  amain, 

The  vessel  in  its  strength ; 
She  shuddered  and  paused  like  a  frightened  steed, 

Then  leaped  her  cable's  length. 

And  fast  through  the  midnight,  dark  and  drear, 
Through  the  whistling  sleet  and  snow, 

Like  a  sheeted  ghost  the  vessel  swept, 
Toward  the  reef  of  Norman's  Woe. 

—  Wreck  of  the  "  Hesperus.'" 

Ishmael  remained  upon  the  quarterdeck,  gazing  out  upon 
the  stormy  glory  of  the  sea  and  sky  until  he  was  interrupted 
by  the  most  prosaic,  though  the  most  welcome  of  sounds — that 
of  the  dinner-bell. 

Then  he  went  below. 

On  his  way  to  the  saloon  he  stopped  at  the  entrance  of  the 
second  cabin;  called  one  of  the  stewards,  and  while  putting  a 
piece  of  money  in  his  hand,  requested  him  to  take  a  bowl  of 
soup  up  to  the  old  man  on  deck,  and  to  see  that  he  wanted 
nothing. 

Then  Ishmael  paid  a  visit  to  each  of  his  suffering  com 
panions. 

First  he  opened  the  door  of  Judge  Merlin's  stateroom,  and 
found  that  gentleman  with  his  face  sulkily  turned  to  the  wall, 
and  in  a  state  of  body  and  mind  so  ill  and  irritable  as  to  make 
all  attempts  at  conversation  with  him  quite  dangerous  to  the 
speaker. 

Next  Ishmael  looked  in  upon  Mr.  Brudenell,  whom  he  luckily 
found  fast  asleep.  And  then,  after  having  given  the  state 
room  stewards  a  strict  charge  concerning  the  comfort  of  these 
two  victims,  Ishmael  passed  on  to  the  dining  saloon.  It  waa 


THE    STORM.  189 

nearly  empty.  There  were  even  fewer  people  gathered  for  din 
ner  than  there  had  been  for  breakfast. 

The  tables  had  the  storm-guards  upon  them,  so  that  eacb 
plate  and  dish  sat  down  in  its  own  little  pen  to  be  kept  from 
slipping  off  in  the  rolling  of  the  ship.  But  this  arrangement 
could  not  prevent  them  from  occasionally  flying  out  of  their 
places  when  there  was  an  unusually  violent  toss. 

At  the  table  where  Ishmael  sat  there  was  no  one  present  ex 
cept  the  old  retired  merchantman,  Captain  Mountz,  who  sat 
on  the  opposite  side,  directly  under  the  port  lights.  And  with 
the  rolling  of  the  ship  these  two  diners,  holding  desper 
ately  onto  the  edge  of  the  table,  were  tossed  up  and  down  like 
boys  on  a  see-saw  plank. 

The  mingled  noise  of  wind  and  wave  and  ship  was  so  deafen 
ing  as  to  make  conversation  difficult  and  nearly  impossible. 
And  yet  Ishmael  and  the  captain  seemed  to  feel  in  courtesy 
compelled  to  bawl  at  each  other  across  the  table  as  they  see 
sawed  up  and  down. 

"  The  gale  seems  to  have  knocked  down  all  pur  fellow  passen 
gers  and  depopulated  our  saloon,"  cried  Ishmael,  soaring  up  to 
the  sky  with  his  side  of  the  table. 

"Yes,  sir,  yes,  sir;  a  lot  of  land-lubbers,  sir;  a  lot  of  lubbers, 
sir!  Gale?  Nothing  but  a  capful  of  wind,  sir!  Nothing  but 
a  capful  of  wind ! "  roared  the  captain,  sinking  down  to  the 
abyss  on  his  side  of  the  table. 

Here  the  steward,  seizing  a  favorable  moment,  deftly  served 
them  with  soup.  And  nothing  but  the  utmost  tact  and  skill 
in  marine  legerdemain  enabled  this  functionary  to  convey  the 
soup  from  the  tureen  to  the  plates.  And  when  there,  it  re 
quired  all  the  attention  and  care  of  the  diners  to  get  it  from 
plate  to  lip.  And,  after  all,  more  than  half  of  it  was  spilled. 

"  Thank  goodness,  that  is  over !  The  solids  won't  give  us 
so  much  trouble,"  said  the  captain,  handing  his  empty  plate 
to  the  steward. 

The  second  course  was  served.  But  the  motion  of  the  ship 
increased  so  much  in  violence  that  the  two  diners  were  com 
pelled  to  hold  still  more  firmly  on  to  the  edge  of  the  table  with 
one  hand,  while  they  ate  with  the  other,  as  they  were  tossed 
up  and  down. 

"  You're  a  good  sailor,  sir ! "  bawled  the  captain  as  he  pitched 
down  oxit  of  sight. 

"  Yes,  thank  Heaven ! "  shouted  Ishmael,  flying  up. 


190  SELF-RAISED  ;    OR,    FROM    THE    DEPTHa 

Then  came  a  tremendous  lurch  of  the  ship. 

"  Oh,  I  must  see  that  wave !  "  cried  the  captain,  imprudently 
climbing  up  to  look  out  from  the  port-light  above  him. 

He  had  scarcely  attained  the  desired  position  when  there 
came  another,  an  unprecedented  toss  of  the  ship,  and  the  un 
lucky  captain  lay  sprawling  on  the  top  of  the  table — with  one 
wide-flung  hand  deep  in  the  dish  of  mashed  turnips  and  the 
other  grasping  the  roast  pig,  while  his  bullet  head  was  butted 
into  Ishmael's  stomach. 

"  Blast  the  shift !  "  cried  the  discomfited  old  man — very  un 
necessarily,  since  there  was  "  blast "  enough,  and  to  spare. 

" '  Only  a  capful  of  wind,'  captain !  '  Only  a  capful  of 
wind,' "  said  Ishmael,  in  a  grave,  matter-of-fact  way,  as  he 
carefully  assisted  the  veteran  to  rise. 

"  Humph !  humph !  humph !  I  might  have  known  you  would 
have  said  that.  Ha !  glad  none  of  the  women  are  here  to  see 
me !  I  s'pose  I've  done  for  the  mashed  turnips  and  roast  pig ; 
and  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  I  had  knocked  your  breath  out  of 
your  body,  too,  sir,"  sputtered  the  old  man,  trying  to  recover 
his  feet,  a  difficult  matter  amid  the  violent  pitching  of  the  ship. 

"  Oh,  you've  not  hurt  me  the  least,"  said  Ishmael,  still  ren 
dering  him  all  the  assistance  in  his  power. 

But  this  mishap  put  an  end  to  the  dinner.  For  the  captain's 
toilet  sadly  needed  renovating,  and  the  table  required  putting 
right. 

Ishmael  went  up  on  deck — a  nearly  impossible  feat  for  any 
landsman,  even  for  one  so  strong  and  active  as  Ishmael  was, 
to  accomplish  with  safety  to  life  and  limb,  for  the  ship  was 
now  fearfully  pitched  from  side  to  side,  and  wallowing  among 
the  leaping  waves. 

High  as  the  wind  was — blowing  now  a  hurricane — the  sky 
was  perfectly  clear,  and  the  sun  was  near  its  setting. 

Ishmael  found  his  old  servant  sitting  propped  up  against 
the  back  of  the  wheel-house,  looking  out  at  one  of  the  most 
glorious  of  all  the  glorious  sights  in  nature — sunset  at  sea. 

"  As  soon  as  the  sun  has  set  you  must  go  down  and  turn  in, 
Morris.  The  wind  is  increasing,  and  it  is  no  longer  safe  for 
a  landsman  like  you  to  remain  up  here,"  said  his  master. 

"Mr.  Ishmael,  sir,  you  must  just  leave  me  up  here  to  my 
fate.  As  to  getting  me  down  now,  that  is  impossible;  I  no 
ticed  that  it  took  both  your  hands,  as  well  as  both  your  feet, 
to  help  yourself  up,"  replied  the  professor. 


THE   STORM.  191 

u  What !  do  you  mean  to  stay  on  deck  all  night  ?  " 

"I  see  no  help  for  it,  sir;  I  should  be  pitched  downstairs 
and  have  my  neck  broken,  or  be  washed  into  the  sea  and  get 
drowned,  by  any  attempt  to  go  below." 

"Nonsense,  Morris;  the  sun  has  gone  down  now;  follow  hi8 
example.  I  will  take  you  safely,"  said  Ishmael,  offering  his  arm 
to  the  old  man  in  that  kind,  but  peremptory,  way  that  admitted 
of  no  denial. 

A  sailor  near  at  hand  came  forward  and  offered  his  assist 
ance.  And  between  the  two  the  professor  was  safely  taken 
down  to  the  second  cabin  and  deposited  in  his  berth. 

A  German  Jew,  who  shared  the  professor's  stateroom,  saw 
the  party  coming,  and  exclaimed  to  a  fellow-passenger: 

"  Tere's  tat  young  shentleman  mit  his  olt  man  again.  Fader 
Abraham !  he  ish  von  shentleman ;  von  drue  shentleman ! " 

"  A  '  true  gentleman,'  I  believe  you,  Isaacs.  Why,  donM; 
you  know  who  he  is?  He  is  that  German  prince  they've  been 
making  such  a  fuss  over,  in  the  States.  I  saw  his  name  in  the 
list  of  passengers.  Prince — Prince  Edward  of — of  Hesse — 
Hesse  something  or  other,  I  forget.  They  are  all  Hesses  or 
Saxes  up  there,"  said  his  interlocutor. 

"No,  no,"  objected  the  Jew.  "Dish  ish  nod  he.  I  know 
Brince  Etwart  ven  I  see  him.  He  ish  von  brince,  but  nod  von 
shentleman.  He  svears  ad  hish  mens." 

The  near  approach  of  the  subject  of  this  conversation  pre 
vented  farther  personal  remarks.  But  when  Ishmael  had  seen 
liis  old  follower  comfortably  in  bed,  the  Jew  turned  to  him  and, 
as  it  would  seem,  for  the  simple  pleasure  of  speaking  to  the 
young  man  whom  he  admired  so  much,  said: 

"  Zir,  te  zhip  rollts  mush.     Tere  vill  pe  a  gread  pig  storm." 

"  I  think  so,"  answered  Ishmael  courteously. 

"  Veil,  if  zhe  goesh  down  do  te  boddom  tere  vill  pe  von  lesh 
drue  shentleman  in  de  vorlt,  zir.  Ant  tat  vill  be  you." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Ishmael,  smiling. 

"  Ant  tere  vill  pe  von  lesh  Sherman  Shew  in  te  vorlt.  Ant 
tat  vill  pe  me." 

"  Oh,  I  hope  there  is  no  danger  of  such  a  calamity.  Good 
night  ! "  said  Ishmael,  smiling  upon  his  admirer  and  with 
drawing  from  the  cabin. 

Ishmael  took  tea  with  the  old  captain,  who  came  into  the 
saloon  and  sat  down  in  a  perfectly  renovated  toilet,  as  if  noth 
ing  had  happened. 


192  SELF-RAISED;    OR,    FROM   THE   DEPTHS. 

But  when  I  say  they  took  tea,  I  mean  that  they  took  quite 
as  much  of  it  up  their  sleeves  and  down  their  bosoms  as  into 
their  mouths.  Drinking  tea  in  a  rolling  ship  is  a  sloppy  opera 
tion. 

After  that  the  captain  produced  a  chess-board,  ingeniously 
arranged  for  sea-service,  and  the  two  gentlemen  spent  the  even 
ing  in  a  mimic  warfare  that  ended  in  a  drawn  battle. 

"  The  gale  seems  to  be  subsiding.  The  motion  of  the  ship 
has  not  been  so  violent  for  the  last  half  hour,  I  think,"  said 
Ishmael,  as  they  arose  from  the  table. 

"No;  if  it  had  been,  we  could  not  have  played  chess,  even 
on  this  boxed  board,"  was  the  reply. 

"I  hope  we  shall  have  fine  weather  now.  What  do  you  say, 
captain  ? " 

"  I  say  as  I  said  before.  I  am  a  passenger,  and  the  weather 
is  nothing  to  me.  But  if  you  expect  we  are  going  to  have  fine 
weather  because  the  wind  has  lulled — humph !  " 

"We  shall  not,  then?" 

"We  shall  have  a  twister,  that  is  what  we  shall  have — and 
before  many  hours.  And  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  we  had  a  storm 
of  snow  and  sleet  to  cap  off  with.  Good-night,  sir! "  AnoVwith 
this  consoling  prophecy  the  old  man  withdrew. 

Ishmael  went  to  his  berth  and  slept  soundly  until  morning. 
When  he  awoke  he  found  the  ship  rolling,  pitching,  tossing, 
leaping,  falling,  and  fairly  writhing  and  twisting  like  a  living 
creature  in  mortal  agony. 

He  fell  out  of  his  berth,  pitched  into  his  clothes,  slopped  his 
face  and  hands,  raked  his  hair,  and  tumbled  on  deck.  In  other 
words,  by  sleight  of  hand  and  foot,  he  made  a  sea-toilet  and 
•went  up. 

What  a  night! 

The  sky  black  as  night;  the  sea  lashed  into  a  foam  as  white 
as  snow;  the  waves  running  mountain  high  from  south  to  north; 
the  wind  blowing^ a  hurricane  from  east  to  west;  the  ship  sub 
jected  to  this  cross  action,  pitching  onward  in  semicircular 
jerks,  deadly  sickening  to  see  and  feel. 

"  I  suppose  this  is  what  you  call  a  '  twister,' "  said  Ishmael, 
reeling  towards  the  old  captain,  who  was  already  on  deck. 

"  Yes ;  just  as  I  told  you !  You  see  that  gale  blew  from  the 
south  for  about  forty-eight  hours  and  got  the  sea  up  running 
north.  And  then,  before  the  sea  had  time  to  subside,  the  wind 
chopped  round  and  now  blows  from  due  east.  And  the  ship  ia 


THE   STOEM.  193 

rolled  from  side  to  side  by  the  waves  and  tossed  from  stem  to 
stern  by  the  wind.  And  between  the  two  actions  she  is  regu 
larly  twisted,  and  that  is  the  reason  why  the  sailors  call  this 
sort  of  thing  a  '  twister.'  And  this  is  not  the  worst  of  it.  This 
east  wind  will  be  sure  to  blow  up  a  snowstorm.  We  shall  have 
it  on  the  Banks." 

"  This  has  gone  beyond  a  gale.  I  should  call  this  a  hurri 
cane,"  said  Ishmael. 

"Hurricane?  hurricane?  Bless  you,  sir,  no,  sir!  capful  of 
wind !  capful  of  wind !  "  said  the  old  man  doggedly. 

Nevertheless  Ishmael  noticed  that  the  ship's  captain  looked 
anxious  and  gave  his  orders  in  short,  peremptory  tones. 

The  predicted  snowstorm  did  not  come  on  during  that  short 
winter's  day,  however.  The  "  twister  "  "  twisted  "  vigorously ; 
twisted  the  ship  nearly  in  two;  twisted  the  souls,  or  rather  the 
stomachs,  nearly  out  of  the  bodies  of  the  seasick  victims.  Even 
the  well-pickled  "  old  salt,"  Captain  Mountz,  felt  uncomfort 
able.  And  it  was  just  as  much  as  Ishmael  could  do  to  keep  him 
self  up  and  avoid  succumbing  to  illness.  Those  two  were  the 
last  of  the  passengers  that  attempted  to  keep  up.  And  they  were 
very  glad  when  night  came  and  gave  them  an  excuse  for  re 
tiring. 

The  predicted  snowstorm  came  on  about  midnight.  When 
Ishmael  dressed  and  struggled  out  of  his  stateroom  in  the  morn 
ing,  he  found  it  just  the  nearest  thing  to  an  impossibility  to 
go  up  on  deck.  The  wind  was  still  blowing  a  hurricane;  the 
sea  leaping  in  the  wildest  waves ;  the  ship  pitching,  tossing,  and 
jerking  as  before;  and  in  addition  to  all  this,  the  snow  was 
falling  thick  and  fast,  and  freezing  as  it  fell,  and  every  part  of 
the  deck  and  rigging  was  covered  with  a  slippery,  shining  coat 
ing  of  ice. 

Those  who  find  it  dangerous  to  walk  on  a  motionless  pave 
ment  in  sleety  weather  may  now  imagine  what  is  was  to  climb 
the  ice-sheathed  steps  of  this  pitching  ship. 

Ishmael  managed  to  get  up  on  deck  somehow;  but  he  found 
the  place  deserted  of  all  except  the  man  at  the  wheel  and  the 
officer  of  the  watch.  Even  the  old  sea  lion,  Captain  Mountz, 
was  among  the  missing. 

There  was  little  to  be  seen.  He  stood  on  the  deck  of  a  tossing 
ship  of  ice,  in  the  midst  of  a  high  wind,  a  boiling  sea,  and  a 
storm  of  snow;  he  could  not  discern  an  object  a  foot  in  advance 
of  him. 


194  SELF-RAISED  J   OR,    FROM   THE   DEPTHS. 

And  so,  after  a  few  words  with  the  well-wrapped-up  officer 
of  the  watch,  he  went  below  to  look  after  the  companions  of 
his  voyage. 

Judge  Merlin  and  Mr.  Brudenell,  like  all  the  other  passen 
gers,  were  so  ill  as  still  to  hate  the  sight  of  a  human  being. 

Leaving  them  in  the  care  of  the  stateroom  steward,  Ishmael 
went  to  see  after  his  old  retainer.  The  professor  was  up, 
clothed,  and  in  his  right  mind. 

"You  see  I  made  an  effort,  Mr.  Ishmael,  sir,  and  a  success 
ful  one,  so  far  as  getting  on  my  feet  was  concerned.  When 
I  woke  up  this  morning  it  occurred  to  me,  like  a  reproach,  that 
I  had  come  with  you,  sir,  to  wait  on  you  and  not  to  be  waited  on 
by  you — which  latter  arrangement  was  a  sort  of  turning  things 
topsy-turvy " 

"I  ding  sho  doo,"  interrupted  the  German  Jew,  whose  name 
was  Isaacs. 

"  And  so,"  continued  the  professor,  "  I  made  an  effort  to  get 
up  and  do  my  duty,  and  I  find  myself  much  better  for  it." 

"  I  am  glad  you  are  well  enough  to  be  up,  Morris,  but  indeed, 
you  need  have  suffered  no  twinges  of  conscience  on  my  ac 
count,"  said  Ishmael,  smiling. 

"  I  know  your  kindness,  sir,  and  that  makes  it  more  incum 
bent  on  me  to  do  my  duty  by  you.  Well,  sir,  I've  been  to  your 
stateroom;  but  finding  you  gone,  and  everything  dancing  a 
hornpipe  there,  I  tried  to  get  up  on  deck  to  you,  but  there,  sir, 
I  failed.  And,  besides,  while  I  was  doing  my  best,  a  stout  old 
gentleman,  a  sea  captain  I  take  him  to  be,  blasted  my  eyes,  and 
ordered  me  to  go  below  and  not  break  my  blamed  neck.  And 
so  I  did." 

"  That  was  Captain  Mountz.  He  meant  you  well,  Morris. 
Tou  did  quite  right  to  obey  him." 

Soon  after  this  Ishmael  went  to  his  stateroom,  took  a  vol 
ume  of  Shakspere,  and  then  enscoused  himself  in  a  corner  of 
the  saloon,  where  he  sat  and  read  until  dinner-time. 

The  progress  of  the  steamer  was  very  slow.  The  day  passed 
heavily.  And  again  when  night  came  everyone  was  glad  to 
go  to  bed  and  to  sleep. 


THE   WKEOK.  195 

CHAPTER  XXVII. 

THE  WRECK. 

And  ever  the  fitful  gusts  between 

A  Bound  came  from  the  land; 
It  was  the  sound  of  the  tramping  surf, 

On  the  rocks  and  the  hard  sea-sand. 

The  breakers  were  right  beneath  her  bows, 

She  drifted  a  dreary  wreck, 
And  a  whooping  billow  swept  the  crew 

Like  icicles  from  her  deck. 

She  struck  where  the  white  and  fleecy  waves 

Looked  soft  as  carded  wool, 
But  the  cruel  rocks,  they  gored  her  sides, 

Like  the  horns  of  an  angry  bull. 

—  Wreck  of  the  "  ffesperug.* 

When  Ishtnael  awoke  in  the  morning  lie  was  surprised  to 
find  that  the  motion  of  the  ship  was  much  lessened.  And  when 
he  went  up  on  deck  he  was  pleased  to  discover  that  the  wind 
had  fallen  and  the  sea  was  going  down. 

There  was  but  one  trouble — the  thick  fog;  but  that  might 
be  expected  on  the  Banks  of  Newfoundland. 

Old  Captain  Mountz  was  pacing  up  and  down  the  deck  with 
the  firm  tread  of  a  man  who  felt  himself  on  solid  ground. 

"  Good-morning,  captain !  A  pleasant  change  this,"  was 
Ishmael's  greeting. 

"  Oh,  aye,  yes !  for  as  long  as  it  will  last,"  was  the  dampening 
reply. 

"  Why,  you  don't  think  the  wind  will  rise  again,  do  you  ? " 

"  Don't  I  ?  I  tell  you  before  many  hours  we  shall  have  a 
strong  sou'wester,  that  will  do  its  best  to  drive  us  ashore  on 
these  Banks,"  was  the  discouraging  answer. 

But  by  this  time  Ishmael  had  grown  to  understand  the  old 
sailor,  and  to  know  that  he  generally  talked  by  the  "  rules  of 
contrary " ;  for  whereas  he  would  not  permit  the  late  gale 
to  be  anything  more  than  a  "  capful  of  wind,"  he  now  declared 
the  fine  weather  to  be  nothing  less  than  the  forerunner  of  a 
hurricane. 

So  Ishmael  did  not  feel  any  very  serious  misgivings,  bnt 
went  downstairs  to  breakfast  with  a  good  appetite. 

Here  another  pleasant  surprise  greeted  him:     Judge  Merliu 


196        SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

and  Mr.  Brudenell,  recovered  from  their  seasickness,  weie  both 
at  breakfast;  and  notwithstanding  the  weight  of  care  that 
oppressed  their  hearts  they  were  both,  from  the  mere  physical 
reaction  from  depressing  illness,  in  excellent  spirits. 

They  arose  to  greet  their  young  friend. 

u  How  do  you  do,  how  do  you  do,  Ishmael  ? "  began  Judge 
Merlin,  heartily  shaking  his  hand.  "  I  really  suppose  now  that 
you  think  I  owe  you  an  apology?  But  the  fact  is  you  owe  me 
one.  Didn't  you  know  better  than  to  intrude  on  the  privacy 
of  a  seasick  man  ?  Didn't  you  know  that  a  victim  hates  the  sight 
of  one  who  is  noo  a  victim?  And  that  a  seasick  man  or  a 
rabid  dog  is  better  let  alone,  eh  ? " 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir ;  I  did  not  know  it ;  but  now  that  you 
enlighten  me,  I  will  not  offend  again,"  laughed  Ishmael. 

Mr.  Brudenell's  greeting  was  quieter,  but  even  more  cordial 
than  that  of  the  judge. 

Before  breakfast  was  over  they  were  joined  by  others  of 
their  fellow-passengers,  whom  they  had  not  seen  since  the 
first  day  out. 

Among  the  rest  was  a  certain  Dr.  Kerr,  a  learned  savant, 
professor  in  the  University  of  Glasgow,  who  had  been  on  a 
scientific  mission  to  the  United  States,  and  was  returning 
home.  He  was  a  tall,  thin  old  gentleman,  in  a  long,  black  vel 
vet  dressing-gown  and  a  round,  black  velvet  skullcap.  And  ho 
entered  readily  into  conversation  with  our  party  on  the  subject 
of  the  late  gales,  and  from  that  diverged  into  the  subject  of 
meteorology.  There  were  no  ladies  present  at  breakfast. 

The  whole  party  soon  adjourned  to  the  deck,  and  notwith 
standing  the  fog,  enjoyed  the  pleasure  of  a  promenade  and  con 
versation  as  they  only  can  who  have  been  deprived  of  such 
privileges  for  many  days. 

At  dinner  the  long  absent  ladies  reappeared ;  among  the  rest, 
the  wife  and  daughters  of  the  Scotch  professor;  and  with  the 
freedom  of  ocean  steamer  traveling,  all  well-dressed  and  well- 
behaved  first-cabin  passengers  soon  became  acquainted  and 
sociable,  if  not  intimate. 

Mrs.  Dr.  Kerr  had  happened  to  hear  of  Mr.  Worth  as  one  of 
the  most  promising  young  barristers  of  the  time;  and  finding 
him  in  the  company  of  Chief  Justice  Merlin,  and  approving 
him  on  short  acquaintance,  and  knowing  that  he  was  unmar 
ried,  and  not  knowing  that  his  heart,  hand,  and  honor  were 
irretrievably  engaged,  she  singled  him  out  as  a  very  desirable 


THE   WRECK.  197 

match,  for  one  of  her  four  penniless  daughters,  end  paid  such 
court  to  him  as  Ishmael,  in  the  honesty  and  gratitude  of  his 
heart,  repaid  with  every  attention. 

Mrs.  Dr.  Kerr,  complaining  of  the  tediousness  of  the 
voyage,  and  the  dullness  of  her  own  circle,  invited  Ishmael  and 
his  party  to  spend  the  evening  and  play  whist  in  the  ladies' 
cabin — forbidden  ground  to  all  gentlemen  who  had  no  ladies 
with  them,  unless  indeed  they  should  happen,  as  in  this  case, 
to  be  invited. 

All  the  gentlemen  of  our  party  availed  themselves  of  this 
privilege,  and  the  evening  passed  more  pleasantly  than  any 
other  evening  since  they  had  been  at  sea. 

The  fog  lasted  for  three  days,  during  which,  as  the  wind  was 
fair  and  the  sea  calm,  the  passengers,  well  wrapped  up,  en 
joyed  the  promenade  of  the  deck  during  the  day,  and  the  social 
meetings  in  tha  dining  saloon,  or  the  whist  parties  in  the 
ladies'  cabin  during  the  evening. 

And  lulled  by  this  deceitful  calm,  they  were  happy  in  the 
thought  that  the  voyage  was  nearly  half  over,  and  in  the  antici 
pation  of  a  prosperous  passage  over  the  remaining  distance, 
and  a  safe  arrival  in  port. 

On  the  evening  of  the  third  day  of  the  fog,  however,  a  vague 
and  nameless  dread  prevailed  among  the  passengers.  No  one 
could  have  told  whence  this  dread  arose,  or  whither  it  pointed. 
Those  well  acquainted  with  the  locality  knew  that  the  steamer 
was  upon  the  Banks  pf  Newfoundland,  and  that  those  Banks 
were  considered  rather  unsafe  in  a  fog. 

Some  others,  who  were  in  the  secret,  also  knew  that  the  cap 
tain  had  not  left  the  quarterdeck,  either  to  eat  or  to  sleep,  for 
forty-eight  hours ;  for  they  had  left  him  on  deck  at  a  late  hour 
at  night,  and  found  him  there  at  an  early  hour  of  the  morning. 
And  they  had  seen  strong  coffee  carried  up  to  him  at  short  in 
tervals.  That  was  all.  For  sailors  never  think  of  danger  until 
that  danger,  whatever  it  might  be,  is  imminent ;  and  never  speak 
of  it  until  it  becomes  necessary  to  do  so,  in  order  to  save  life. 

Thus  the  passengers  on  board  the  "  Oceana,"  on  the  night  of 
the  20th  of  December,  were  totally  ignorant  of  the  real  nature 
of  the  perils  that  beset  them,  although,  as  I  said,  an  undefined 
misgiving  and  a  sense  of  insecurity  oppressed  their  hearts. 

At  ten  o'clock  that  night  the  weather  was  thick,  foggy,  and 
Intensely  cold,  with  a  heavy  sea  and  a  high  wind. 

The  captain  and  first  mate  were  on  deck,  where  a  number  of 


198        SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS, 

the  hardier  and  more  anxious  passengers  were  collected  tt 
watch. 

In  the  dining  saloon  were  gathered  around  the  tables  thosa 
inveterate  gamblers  who  seem  to  have  no  object,  either  in  the 
voyage  of  the  ocean  or  the  voyage  of  life,  except  the  winning 
or  losing  of  money. 

In  the  ladies'  cabin  there  were  two  social  whist  parties,  formed 
of  the  ladies  of  the  Scotch  professor's  family  and  the  gentlemen 
of  our  set. 

,  They  were  playing  with  great  enjoyment,  notwithstanding 
that  little  undercurrent  of  vague  uneasiness  of  which  I  spoke, 
when  the  Scotchman,  who  had  been  on  the  deck  all  the  evening, 
came  down  into  the  cabin,  wearing  a  long  face. 

But  the  whist-players  were  too  much  interested  in  their  game 
to  notice  the  lugubrious  expression  of  the  old  man,  until  he 
came  to  the  table,  and  in  a  tone  of  the  most  alarming  gravity 
exclaimed : 

"  Don't  be  frightened !  " 

Every  lady  dropped  her  cards  and  turned  deadly  pale  with 
terror.  Every  gentleman  looked  up  inquiringly  at  this  judicious 
speaker. 

"What  is  there  to  be  frightened  at,  sir?"  coldly  inquired 
Ishmael. 

"  Well,  you  know  our  situation But,  ladies,  for  Heaven's 

sake,  be  composed.  Your  sex  are  noted  for  heroism  in  the  midst 
of  danger " 

Here,  to  prove  his  words  good,  one  of  the  ladies  shrieked, 
fell  back  in  her  chair,  and  covered  her  face  with  her  hands. 

"  These  ladies  are  not  aware  of  any  danger,  sir,  and  I  think 
it  quite  needless  to  alarm  them,"  said  Ishmael  gravely. 

"  My  good  young  friend,  I  don't  wish  to  alarm  them ;  I  came 
down  here  on  purpose  to  exhort  them  to  coolness  and  self-pos 
session,  so  necessary  in  the  hour  of  peril.  Now,  dear  ladies,  I 
must  beg  that  you  will  not  suffer  yourselves  to  be  agitated." 

"  There  is  really,  sir,  no  present  cause  for  agitation,  except, 
if  you  will  pardon  me  for  saying  it,  your  own  needlessly  alarm 
ing  words  and  manner,"  said  Ishmael  cheerfully,  to  reassure 
the  frightened  women,  who  seemed  upon  the  very  verge  of 
hysterics. 

"No,  no,  no,  certainly  no  cause  for  agitation,  ladies — cer 
tainly  not.  Therefore  don't  be  agitated,  I  beg  of  you.  But— 
but — don't  undress  and  go  to  bed  to-night.  Lie  down  on  tha 


THE    WRECK.  199 

outside  of  your  berths  just  as  you  are;  for,  look  you — we  may  all 
have  to  take  to  the  lifeboats  at  a  minute's  warning,"  said  the 
doctor,  his  long,  pale  face  looking  longer  and  paler  than  ever 
under  his  round,  black  skullcap. 

A  half -smothered  shriek  burst  simultaneously  from  all  the 
women  present. 

"  I  trust,  sir,  that  your  fears  are  entirely  groundless.  I  have 
heard  no  apprehensions  expressed  in  any  other  quarter,"  said 
Ishmael.  And  although  he  never  begged  the  ladies  not  to  be 
"  frightened,"  yet  every  cheerful  word  he  spoke  tended  to  calm 
their  fears. 

"  What  cause  have  you  for  such  forebodings,  doctor  ? "  in 
quired  Mr.  Brudenell. 

"  Oh,  none  at  all,  sir.  There  is  no  reason  to  be  alarmed.  I 
hope  nobody  will  be  alarmed,  especially  the  ladies.  But  you 
see  the  captain  has  not  been  able  to  make  an  observation  for 
the  last  three  days  on  account  of  the  fog;  and  it  is  said  that 
no  one  accurately  knows  just  where  we  are;  except  that  we  are 
on  the  Banks,  somewhere,  and  may  strike  before  we  know  it. 
That  is  all.  Now  don't  be  terrified.  And  don't  lose  your  pres 
ence  of  mind.  And  whatever  you  do,  don't  take  off  your  clothes ; 
for  if  we  strike  you  mayn't  have  time  to  put  them  on  again, 
and  scanty  raiment,  in  an  open  boat,  on  a  wintry  night  at  sea, 
wouldn't  be  pleasant.  Now  mind  what  I  tell  you.  I  shall  not 
turn  in  myself.  I  am  going  on  deck  to  watch." 

And  having  succeeded  in  spreading  a  panic  among  the 
women,  the  old  man  took  himself  and  his  black  skullcap  out 
of  the  cabin.  Exclamations  of  surprise,  fear,  and  horror  fol 
lowed  his  departure. 

There  was  no  more  card-playing;  they  did  not  even  finish; 
their  game;  they  felt  it  to  be  sacrilegious  to  engage  in  even  a 
"  ladies'  game  "  of  whist,  on  the  eve  of  possible  shipwreck,  per 
haps  on  the  brink  of  eternity. 

Ishmael  gathered  up  and  put  away  the  cards  and  set  himself 
earnestly  to  calm  the  fears  of  his  trembling  fellow-passengers; 
but  they  were  not  to  be  soothed.  Then  he  offered  to  go  up  on 
deck  and  make  inquiries  as  to  the  situation,  course,  and  pros 
pects  of  the  ship;  but  they  would  not  consent  to  his  leaving 
them;  they  earnestly  besought  him  to  stay;  and  declared  that 
they  found  assurance  and  comfort  in  his  presence. 

At  length  he  took  the  Bible  and  seated  himself  at  the  table, 
and  read  to  them  such  portions  as  were  suited  to  their  condi« 


200        SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS 

tion.  He  read  for  more  than  an  hour,  and  then,  hoping  that 
this  had  composed  their  spirits,  he  closed  the  book  and  counseled 
them  to  retire  and  take  some  rest;  and  promised  to  station  him 
self  outside  the  cabin  door  and  be  their  vigilant  sentinel,  to 
warn  them  of  danger  the  instant  it  should  become  necessary. 

But  no!  they  each  and  all  declared  sleep  to  be  impossible 
under  the  circumstances.  And  they  continued  to  sit  around  the 
table  with  their  arms  laid  on  its  top  and  their  heads  buried  in 
them,  waiting  for — what?  Who  could  tell? 

Meanwhile  the  ship  was  borne  swiftly  on  by  wind  and  wave 
— whither?  None  of  these  frightened  women  knew. 

Eight  bells  struck — twelve,  midnight;  and  Ishmael  renewed 
his  entreaties  that  they  would  take  some  repose.  But  in  vain; 
for  they  declared  that  there  could  be  no  repose  for  their  bodies 
•while  their  minds  were  suffering  such  intense  anxiety. 

One  bell  struck,  and  there  they  sat;  two  bells,  and  there  they 
still  sat;  and  there  was  but  little  conversation  after  this. 
Three  bells  struck,  and  they  sat  on,  stf  motionless  that  Ishmael 
hoped  they  had  fallen  asleep  on  their  watch  and  he  refrained 
from  addressing  them.  Four  bells  struck.  It  was  two  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  and  dead  silence  reigned  in  the  ladies'  cabin. 
Everyone  except  Ishmael  had  gone  to  sleep. 

Suddenly  through  the  stillness  a  cry  rang — a  joyous  cry.  It 
was  the  voice  of  the  man  on  the  lookout,  and  it  shouted  forth : 

"Land  ho!" 

u  Where  away  ? "  called  another  voice. 

"On  her  lee  bow!" 

"What  do  you  make  of  it?" 

"Cape  Safety  lighthouse!" 

A  shout  went  up  from  the  passengers  on  deck  A  simul 
taneous,  involuntary,  joyous  three  times  three. 

"  Hurrah  I     Hurrah !     Hurrah !  " 

A  devout  thanksgiving  ascended  from  Ishmael's  heart: 

"  Thank  God !  "  he  fervently  exclaimed. 

It  was  indeed  an  infinite  relief. 

Then  he  turned  to  wake  up  his  wearied  fellow-passengers, 
who  had  fallen  asleep  in  such  uneasy  attitudes — arms  folded 
on  the  top  of  the  table  and  heads  fallen  on  the  folded  arms. 

"  Ladies !  dear  ladies !  dear  Mrs.  Kerr !  you  may  retire  to  rest 
now.  We  have  made  Cape  Safety,"  he  said,  going  from  one 
to  another  and  gently  rousing  them. 

They  were  a  little  bewildered  at  first;  and  while  they  were 


THE   WRECK.  201 

still  trying  to  understand  what  Ishmael  was  saying,  the  Scotch 
professor  burst  into  the  cabin  and  enlightened  them  by  a  coup- 
de-rnain. 

"  You  may  all  undress  and  go  to  bed  now,  and  sleep  in  peace, 
without  the  least  fear  of  a  shipwreck." 

"  Eh,  pa!  is  it  so — are  we  safe? "  cried  the  elder  daughter. 

"  Safe  as  St.  Paul's.  We  know  where  we  are  now.  We  have 
made  Cape  Safety  Lighthouse.  Go  to  bed  and  sleep  easy.  I'm 
going  now.  Come  along,  Jeanie,"  said  the  doctor  to  his  old 
wife. 

"  Not  until  I  have  shaken  hands  with  this  good  young  gentle 
man.  I  don't  know  what  would  have  become  of  us,  doctor, 
after  you  frightened  us  so  badly,  if  it  had  not  been  for  him. 
He  stayed  with  us  and  kept  up  our  hearts.  God  bless  you, 
young  sir ! "  said  Mrs.  Dr.  Kerr,  fervently  pressing  Ishmael's 
hands. 

Ishmael  himself  was  glad  to  go  to  rest;  so  he  only  stopped 
long  enough  to  bid  good-night  to  Judge  Merlin  and  Mr.  Bru- 
deiiell,  who  had  just  awakened  to  a  sense  of  security,  and  then 
he  went  to  his  stateroom  and  turned  in. 

Thoroughly  wearied  in  mind  and  body,  he  had  no  sooner 
touched  his  pillow  than  he  fell  into  a  deep  sleep — a  sleep  that 
annihilated  several  hours  of  time. 

He  slept  until  he  was  aroused  by  a  tremendous  shock — a  shock 
that  threw  him,  strong,  heavy,  athletic  man  as  he  was,  from 
his  stateroom  berth  to  the  cabin  floor.  He  was  on  his  feet  in 
a  moment,  though  stunned,  confused,  and  amazed.  The  poor 
ship  was  shuddering  throughout  her  whole  frame  like  a  living 
creature  in  the  agony  of  death. 

Men  who  had  been  violently  thrown  from  their  berths  to 
the  floor  were  everywhere  picking  themselves  up  and  trying  to 
collect  their  scattered  senses.  Crowds  were  hurrying  from  the 
cabins  and  saloons  to  the  deck.  The  voices  of  the  officers  were 
heard  in  quick,  anxious,  peremptory  orders;  and  those  of  the 
crew  in  prompt,  eager,  terrified  responses. 

And  through  all  came  shrieks  of  terror,  anguish,  and  despair. 

"The  ship  has  struck!"  "We  are  lost!"  "God  have 
mercy !  "  were  the  cries. 

Ishmael  hurried  on  his  clothes  and  rushed  to  the  deck.  Hera 
all  was  panic,  confusion,  and  unutterable  distress.  The  fog  had 
cleared  away;  day  was  dawning;  and  there  was  just  light  enough 
to  show  them  the  utter  hopelessness  of  their  position. 


202        SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

The  steamer  had  struck  a  rock,  and  with  such  tremendous 
force  that  she  was  already  parting  amidships;  her  bows  were 
already  under  water  and  the  sea  was  breaking  over  her  with 
fearful  force. 

How  had  this  happened,  with  the  lighthouse  ahead?  Was  it 
really  a  lighthouse,  or  was  it  a  false  beacon? 

No  one  could  tell;  no  one  had  time  to  ask.  Everybody  was 
fast  crowding  to  the  stern  of  the  ship,  the  only  part  of  her  that 
was  out  of  water.  Some  crawled  up,  half  drowned;  some  drip 
ping  wet;  some  scarcely  yet  awake,  acting  upon  the  blind  im 
pulse  of  self-preservation. 

Two  of  the  lifeboats  had  been  forcibly  reft  away  from  the 
side  of  the  ship  by  the  violence  of  the  shock  and  carried  off  by 
the  sea.  Only  two  remained,  and  it  was  nearly  certain  that  they 
were  not  of  sufficient  capacity  to  save  the  crew  and  passengers. 

But  the  danger  was  imminent — a  moment's  delay  might  be 
fatal  to  all  on  board  the  wreck;  not  an  instant  was  to  be  lost. 

The  order  was  quickly  given: 

"  Get  out  the  lifeboats !  " 

And  the  sailors  sprang  to  obey. 

At  this  moment  another  fatality  threatened  the  doomed  crew 
— it  was  what  might  have  been  expected:  the  steerage  passen 
gers,  mostly  a  low  and  brutalized  order  of  men,  in  whom  the 
mere  animal  instinct  of  love  of  life  and  fear  of  death  was  pre 
dominant  over  every  nobler  emotion,  came  rushing  in  a 
body  up  the  deck,  and  drying  with  one  voice: 

"  To  the  lifeboats !  to  the  lifeboats !  Let  us  seize  the  life 
boats,  and  save  ourselves !  " 

Everyone  else  was  panic-stricken.  It  is  in  crises  like  this 
that  the  tnie  hero  is  developed.  With  the  bound  of  a  young 
Achilles  Ishmael  seized  a  heavy  iron  bar  and  sprang  to  the  star 
board  gangway,  where  the  two  remaining  boats  were  still  sus 
pended;  and  standing  at  bay,  with  limbs  apart,  and  eyes  threat 
ening,  and  his  fearful  weapon  raised  in  his  right  hand,  he 
thundered  forth: 

"  Who  tries  to  pass  here  dies  that  instant !     Stand  off !  " 

Before  this  young  hero  the  crowd  of  senseless,  rushing  brutes 
recoiled  as  from  a  fire. 

He  pursued  and  secured  his  victory  with  a  few  words: 

"  Are  you  men  ?  If  so,  before  all,  let  helpless  childhood,  and 
feeble  womanhood,  and  venerable  age  be  saved;  and  then  you. 
I  demand  of  you  no  more  than  I  am  willing  to  do  myself.  I  will 


THE   WEECK.  203 

be  the  last  to  leave  the  wreck.  I  will  see  you  all  in  safety  he- 
fare  I  attempt  to  save  my  own  life." 

So  great  is  the  power  of  heroism  over  all,  that  even  these 
brutal  men,  so  selfish,  senseless,  and  impetuous  a  moment  be 
fore,  were  now  subdued;  nay,  some  of  them  were  inspired  and 
raised  a  hurrah. 

Fear  of  a  possible  reaction  among  the  steerage  passengers, 
however,  caused  old  Captain  Mountz,  Judge  Merlin,  Mr.  Bru- 
denell,  Dr.  K-err,  Jem  Morris,  the  Jew,  and  several  others 
to  come  to  the  support  of  Ishmael.  Among  the  rest  the  captain 
of  the  steamer  came. 

"Young  man,  you  have  saved  all  our  lives,"  he  said. 

Ishmael  slowly  bowed  his  head. 

"  I  hope  that  God  has  saved  you  all,"  he  answered. 

The  sailors  "were  now  busy  getting  down  the  lifeboats.  It 
was  but  the  work  of  a  very  few  minutes. 

"Let  the  ladies  and  children  be  brought  forward,"  ordered 
the  captain.  And  the  women  and  children,  some  screaming, 
some  weeping,  and  some  dumb  with  terror,  were  lowered  into 
one  of  the  boats. 

"  Now  the  nearest  male  relatives  of  these  ladies  to  the  same 
boat,"  was  the  captain's  next  order. 

And  Dr.  Kerr  and  about  a  dozen  other  gentlemen  pre 
sented  themselves,  and  were  lowered  into  the  boat,  where  they 
were  received  with  hysterical  cries  of  mingled  joy  and  fear  by 
the  women. 

And  all  this  time  the  sea  was  dashing  fearfully  over  the 
wreck,  and  at  every  interval  the  planks  of  the  deck  upon  which 
they  clung  were  felt  to  swell  and  sway  as  if  they  were  about 
to  part. 

"  Now  the  old  men !  "  shouted  the  captain. 

Ishmael  took  Judge  Merlin  by  the  arm,  and  with  gentle 
coercion  passed  them  on  to  the  sailors,  who  lowered  him  into 
the  boat. 

Then  Captain  Mountz  and  several  other  old  men,  and  many 
who  were  not  old,  but  were  willing  to  appear  so  "  for  this  oc 
casion  only,"  followed  and  were  passed  down  into  the  boat. 

Then  Ishmael  looked  around  in  concern.  The  professor  was 
lingering  in  the  background. 

"  Come  here,  Morris !  You  certainly  fall  under  the  head  of 
'  old  men,' "  he  said,  taking  the  professor  by  the  elbow  and 
gently  pushing  him  forward. 


204        SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

"  No,  young  Ishmael,  no !  I  cannot  go !  The  boat  is  as  f ul\ 
as  it  can  be  packed  now — or  at  least  it  won't  hold  more  than  one 
more,  and  you  ought  to  go;  and  I  will  not  crowd  you  out," 
urged  the  old  man,  with  passionate  earnestness. 

And  all  this  time  the  sea  was  thundering  over  the  wreck  and 
entirely  drenching  everybody,  and  nearly  drowning  some. 

"Morris,  I  shall  not  in  any  case  enter  that  boat.  There  is, 
no  time,  when  scores  of  lives  are  in  imminent  danger,  to  argue1 
the  point.  But — as  you  never  disobeyed  me  in  your  life  before, 
I  now  lay  my  commands  on  you  to  go  into  that  boat,"  said 
Ishmael,  with  the  tone  and  manner  of  a  monarch. 

With  a  cry  of  despair  the  professor  let  himself  drop  into 
the  lifeboat  to  be  saved. 

The  boat  was  now  really  as  full  as  it  could  possibly  be 
crammed  with  safety  to  its  passengers.  And  it  was  detained 
only  until  a  cask  of  fresh  water  and  a  keg  of  biscuit  could  be 
thrown  into  it,  and  then  it  gave  way  ACT  the  second  lifeboat  to 
come  up  to  the  gangway. 

This  second  boat  was  rapidly  filled.  But  when  it  was  crowded 
quite  full  there  remained  upon  the  breaking  wreck  Ishmael  and 
ten  of  the  younger  steerage  passengers. 

"  Come !  come ! "  shouted  the  captain  of  the  steamer,  who 
was  in  the  second  boat.  "  Come,  Mr.  Worth !  There  is  room 
for  one  more!  There  is  always  room  for  one  more." 

"  If  there  is  room  for  one  more,  take  one  of  these  young  men, 
my  companions,"  replied  Ishmael  gravely. 

"  No !  no !  if  we  cannot  take  all,  why  take  one  of  their  num 
ber,  instead  of  taking  you,  Mr.  Worth  ?  Come !  come !  do  not 
keep  us  here !  It  is  dangerous !  "  urged  the  captain. 

"  Pass  on !     I  remain  here !  "  answered  Ishmael  steadfastly. 

"  But  that  is  madness.  What  good  will  it  do  ?  Come,  quick  I 
climb  up  on  the  bulwarks  and  leap  down  into  the  boat!  You 
are  young  and  active,  and  can  do  it !  quick !  " 

"  Give  way !  I  shall  remain  here,"  replied  Ishmael,  folding 
his  arms  and  planting  himself  firmly  on  the  quaking  deck,  over 
which  the  sea  incessantly  thundered. 

"  Ishmael !  Ishmael !  My  son !  my  son !  for  Heaven's  sake — 
for  my  sake, — come!  "  cried  Mr.  Brudenell,  holding  out  his  arms 
in  an  agony  of  prayer. 

"Father,"  replied  the  young  man,  in  this  supreme  moment 
of  fate  not  refusing  him  that  paternal  title;  "father,"  he  re 
peated,  with  impassioned  fervor;  "father,  every  one  of  these 


•WHO  TRIES  TO  PASS  HERE,  DIES  THAT  INSTANT!" 

— Page  202. 


THE   WRECK.  205 

men  has  precedence  of  me,  in  the  right  to  be  saved.  For  when 
I  intervened  between  them  and  the  lifeboats  they  were  about 
to  seize  I  promised  them  that  I  would  see  every  one  of  them  in 
safety  before  attempting  to  save  myself.  I  promised  them  that 
I  would  be  the  very  last  man  to  leave  the  wreck.  Father,  they 
confided  in  me,  and  I  will  keep  my  word  with  them." 

"  But  you  cannot  save  their  lives ! "  cried  Mr.  Brudenell, 
with  a  gesture  of  desperation. 

"  I  can  keep  my  word  by  staying  with  them,"  was  the  firm 
reply. 

While  Ishmael  spoke  there  was  a  rapid  consultation  going 
on  among  his  companions  on  the  wreck.  Then  one  of  them 
spoke  for  the  rest: 

"  Go  and  save  yourself,  young  gentleman.  We  give  you 
back  your  promise." 

Ishmael  turned  and  smiled  upon  them  with  benignity,  as  he 
replied  sweetly: 

"  I  thank  you,  my  friends.  I  thank  you  earnestly.  You  are 
brave  and  generous  men.  But  from  such  a  pledge  as  I  have 
given,  you  have  no  power  to  release  me." 

"  Ishmael !  Ishmael,  for  Bee's  sake !  "  cried  Judge  Merlin, 
stretching  his  arms  imploringly  towards  the  young  man.  "  For 
Bee's  sake,  Ishmael !  Think  of  Bee!" 

"  Oh,  I  do !  I  do  think  of  her ! "  said  the  young  man,  in  a 
voice  of  impassioned  grief.  "  God  bless  her !  God  forever 
bless  her !  But  not  even  for  her  dear  sake  must  I  shrink  from 
duty.  I  honor  her  too  much  to  live  to  offer  her  the  dishonored 
hand  of  a  craven.  Tell  her  this,  and  tell  her  that  my  last 
earthly  thought  was  hers.  We  shall  meet  in  eternity." 

"  Ishmael,  Ishmael !  "  simultaneously  cried  Judge  Merlin  and 
Mr.  Brundenell,  as  they  saw  a  tremendous  sea  break  in  thunder 
over  the  wreck,  which  was  instantly  whirled  violently  around 
as  in  the  vortex  of  a  maelstrom. 

"  Give  way !  give  way !  quick !  for  your  lives !  The  wreck  is 
going  and  she  will  draw  down  the  boats ! "  shouted  Ishmael, 
waving  his  arm  from  the  whirling  deck. 

The  sailors  on  board  the  lifeboats  laid  themselves  vigorously 
to  their  oars,  and  rowed  them  swiftly  away  from  the  whirling 
eddy  around  the  settling  wreck.  The  passengers  on  board  the 
boats  averted  tkeir  heads  or  veiled  their  eyes — they  could  not 
look  upon  the  death  of  Ishmael. 

But  as  the  boats  bounded  away,  something  leaped  from  one 


206        SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

of  them  with  the  heavy  plunge  of  a  large  dog  into  the  water, 
and  the  next  instant  the  old  gray  head  of  Jim  Moms  was  seen 
rising  from  the  foaming  waves.  He  struggled  towards  the 
deck,  clambered  up  its  sides  and  sunk  at  IshmaePs  feet,  em 
bracing  his  knees,  weeping  and  crying: 

"  Young  Ishmael !  master !  master !    Oh,  let  me  die  with  you !  " 

Speechless    from    profound    emotion,    Ishmael    stooped    and 

raised  the  old  man  and  clasped  him  to  his  bosom  with  one  arm, 

while  with  the  other  he  waved  adieu  to  the  rapidly  receding 

lifeboats. 


CHAPTER  XXVHL 

A  DISCOVERY. 

Why  stand  ye  thru  amazed  ?  methinks  your  eye* 
Are  fixed  in  meditation ;  and  all  here 
Seem  like  so  many  senseless  statues, 
As  if  your  souls  had  suffered  an  eclipse 
Betwixt  your  judgments  and  affections, 

— Swetnam, 

We  must  return  to  Claudia,  and  to  that  evening  when  she 
was  accosted  by  Katie  on  the  stairs. 

On  that  occasion  Claudia  went  down  to  dinner  without  feeling 
the  least  anxiety  on  the  subject  of  Katie's  promised  communi 
cation.  She  supposed,  when  she  thought  of  it  at  all,  that  it 
was  some  such  idle  rumor  as  frequently  arose  concerning  the 
discovery  of  some  suspected  person  implicated  in  the  murder 
of  Ailsie  Dunbar. 

The  dinner  that  evening  happened  to  be  more  protracted 
than  usual. 

And  when  they  arose  from  the  table  Mrs.  Dugald,  contrary 
to  her  custom,  immediately  retired  to  her  private  apartments. 
Claudia  was  also  about  to  withdraw,  when  the  viscount  said 
to  her: 

"Excuse  me,  Lady  Vincent;  but  I  must  request  the  favor 
of  a  few  moments'  conversation  with  you." 

"Very  well,  my  lord,"  answered  Claudia,  bowing  coldly. 

He  led  the  way  to  the  drawing  room  and  Claudia  followed. 
Coffee  was  already  served  there,  and  old  Cuthbert  was  in  attend 
ance  to  hand  it  around. 

"You  may  go,  Cuthbert.    We  can  wait  on  ourselves,"  said 


A   DISCOVERY.  207 

Lord  Vincent,  as  he  led  his  wife  to  a  seat  and  took  one  for  him« 
self  near  her. 

When  the  old  servant  had  left  the  room,  the  viscount  turned 
to  Claudia  and  said: 

"  Lady  Vincent,  I  have  been  obliged  to  solicit  this  interview 
because  I  have  much  to  say  to  you,  while  you  give  me  very  few 
opportunities  of  saying  anything." 

Claudia  bowed  a  cold  assent  and  remained  silent. 

"It  is  of  Mrs.  Dugald  that  I  wish  to  speak  to  you." 

"I  am  listening,  my  lord,"  replied  Claudia  haughtily. 

"  Lady  Vincent,  this  arrogant  manner  towards  me  will  not 
serve  any  good  purpose.  However,  it  is  not  on  my  own  score 
that  I  came  to  complain,  but  on  Mrs.  Dugald's;  that  lady's  po 
sition  in  this  house  is  a  very  delicate  one." 

"  So  delicate,  my  lord,  that  I  think  the  sooner  she  withdraws 
from  it  the  better  it  will  be." 

"  You  do !  It  is  to  that  end,  then,  I  presume,  that  you  have 
treated  her  with  so  much  scorn  and  contempt?"  said  his  lord 
ship  angrily. 

"  My  lord,  with  all  my  faults,  I  am  no  hypocrite ;  and  with  all 
my  accomplishments  I  am  no  actress." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that,  my  lady  ? " 

"  I  mean  that  I  have  not  been  able  to  treat  your — sister-in- 
law — with  the  respect  that  I  could  not  feel  for  her,"  replied 
Claudia,  with  disdain. 

"  No,  madam ! "  exclaimed  Lord  Vincent,  turning  pale  with 
rage.  "  You  have  treated  that  lady  with  the  utmost  contumely. 
And  I  have  demanded  this  interview  with  you  for  the  express 
purpose  of  telling  you  that  I  will  not  submit  to  have  the  widow 
of  my  brother  treated  with  disrespect  in  my  own  house  and 
by  my  own  wife ! " 

Claudia  arose  with  great  dignity  and  answered : 

"My  lord,  since  you  desired  this  interview  for  the  purpose 
of  expressing  your  wishes  upon  this  point;  and,  since  you  have 
expressed  them,  I  presume  the  object  of  our  meeting  has  been 
accomplished  and  I  am  at  liberty  to  withdraw.  Good-night." 

"  Not  so  fast,  not  so  fast,  Lady  Vincent !  I  have  not  dono 
with  you  yet,  my  lady.  The  will  that  I  have  just  spoken  must 
be  obeyed.  Mrs.  Dugald  must  be  treated  by  you,  as  well  as  by 
others,  with  the  courtesy  and  consideration  due  to  her  rank 
and  position.  Many  abuses  must  be  reformed.  And  among 
them  is  this  one — your  constant  refusal  to  appear  in  public 


208        SELF-KAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

with  her.  Ever  since  your  arrival  here  Mrs.  Dugald  has  been 
a  prisoner  in  the  house,  because  she  cannot  go  out  alone;  and 
she  will  not  go  out,  attended  by  me,  unless  you  are  also  of  the 
party,  for  fear  that  evil-minded  people  will  talk." 

Claudia's  beautiful  lip  curled  with  scorn  as  she  answered: 

"Mrs.  Dugald's  scruples  do  credit  to  her — powers  of  du 
plicity." 

"You  wrong  her.  You  always  wrong  her;  but,  by  my  soul, 
you  shall  not  continue  to  do  so!  Listen,  Lady  Vincent!  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Dean,  the  celebrated  tragedians,  are  playing  a  short 
engagement  at  Banff.  Mrs.  Dugald  and  myself  wish  to  go  and 
eee  them.  It  will  be  proper  for  you  to  be  of  the  party.  I  de 
sire  that  you  will  be  prepared  to  go  with  us  to-morrow  evening." 

Claudia's  face  flushed  crimson  with  indignation. 

"Excuse  me,  my  lord.  I  cannot  possibly  appear  anywhere 
in  public  with  Mrs.  Dugald,"  she  haughtily  replied. 

"  If  you  fail  to  go  with  us,  you  will  rue  your  scorn  in  every 
vein  of  your  heart,  my  lady.  However,  I  will  not  take  your 
final  answer  to-night;  I  will  give  you  another  chance  in  the 
morning.  Au  revoir ! "  he  said,  with  an  insulting  laugh,  as  he 
lounged  out  of  the  room. 

Claudia  remained  where  he  had  left  her,  transfixed  with  in 
dignation,  for  a  few  minutes.  And  then  she  began  to  walk 
up  and  down  the  room  to  exhaust  her  excitement  before  going 
upstairs  to  her  dressing  room,  where  she  supposed  that  Katie 
was  awaiting  her. 

She  walked  up  and  down  the  floor  some  fifteen  or  twenty 
minutes,  and  then  left  the  saloon  and  sought  her  own  apart 
ments.  She  had  just  reached  the  landing  of  the  second  floor, 
on  which  her  rooms  were  situated,  when  she  was  startled  by  a 

low,  half -suppressed  cry  of  "  Murd ,"  which  was  quickly 

stopped,  and  immediately  followed  by  a  muffled  fall  and  a  low 
scuffling,  and  the  voice  of  Lord  Vincent  muttering  vehemently : 
"  Faustina !  "  and  other  words  inaudible  to  the  hearer. 

"  Ah !  they  are  quarreling  as  usual !  "  said  Claudia  to  herself, 
with  a  scornful  smile,  as  she  crossed  the  hall  and  entered  her 
own  suite  of  apartments. 

"I  have  kept  you  waiting,  Katie;  but  I  could  not  help  it, 
my  good  woman,"  she  said  cheerfully,  as  she  entered  her  dress 
ing  room.  But  there  was  no  reply.  She  looked  around  her  in 
surprise.  Katie  was  nowhere  to  be  seen ;  the  room  was  empty. 
The  lamp  was  burning  dimly  and  the  fire  was  smoldering  out, 


A    DISCOVEEY.  209 

Claudia  raised  the  light  of  the  lamp,  and,  seating  herself 
in  her  easy-chair  before  the  fire,  stirred  the  coals  into  a  blaze 
and  began  to  warm  her  feet  and  hands. 

"  The  old  creature  has  grown  weary  of  waiting,  I  suppose, 
and  has  gone  down  to  her  supper,"  she  said  to  herself.  And 
she  sat  waiting  patiently  for  some  time  before  she  rang  her  bell. 

Sally  answered  it. 

"  Go  down,  Sally,  and  tell  Katie  that  I  am  here  and  ready  to 
see  her  now,"  said  Lady  Vincent. 

Sally  went  on  this  errand,  but  soon  returned  and  said: 

"  If  you  please,  ma'am,  Aunt  Katie  aint  nowhere  downstairs. 
I  s'pects  she's  done  gone  to  bed." 

Claudia  suddenly  looked  up  to  the  ormolu  clock  that  stoo3 
upon  the  mantel  shelf. 

"  Why,  yes ! "  she  said,  "  it  is  nearly  eleven  o'clock.  I  had 
no  idea  that  it  was  so  lata  Of  course  she  has  gone  to  bed." 

"  Mus'  I  go  call  her  up,  ma'am  ? " 

"No,  Sally;  certainly  not.  But  there  was  something  that 
she  said  she  had  to  tell  me.  Something,  I  fancy,  it  was,  abo'ut 
the  murder  of  that  poor  girl.  Has  anything  new  been  discovered 
in  relation  to  that  affair,  do  you  know  ? " 

"  No,  ma'am,  not  as  I  has  hearn.  'Deed  it  was  only  jes  now 
we  was  all  a-talking  about  it  in  de  servants'  hall,  and  Mr. 
Frisbie  he  was  a-mentioning  how  misteerious  it  was,  as  we 
could  hear  nothing.  And  jes  then  your  bell  rung,  ma'am,  and 
I  came  away." 

"Well,  Sally,  you  must  help  me  to  disrobe,  and  then  you 
may  go." 

The  waiting  maid  did  her  duty  and  retired. 

And  Claudia,  wrapped  in  her  soft  dressing  gown  and  seated 
in  her  easy-chair  before  the  fire,  gave  herself  up  to  thought. 

She  was  thinking  of  her  meeting  with  Katie  on  the  stairs. 
Since  it  was  no  new  rumor  connected  with  the  murder,  she 
was  wondering  what  could  be  the  nature  of  the  communication 
Katie  had  to  make  to  her.  She  recalled  the  anxious,  frightened, 
indignant  countenance  of  the  old  woman,  and  in  her  memory 
that  expression  seemed  to  have  a  more  significant  meaning  than 
it  had  had  to  her  careless  eyes  at  the  time  of  seeing  it. 

What  could  it  be  that  Katie  had  to  tell  her?  Of  course  Clau 
dia  did  not  know;  she  soon  gave  up  trying  to  conjecture;  but 
felt  impatient  for  the  morning,  when  the  mystery  should  bo 
revealed. 


210    SELF-RAISED;  OB,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

Other  anxious  thoughts  also  troubled  her;  thoughts  of  tha 
dangers  to  which  she  was  exposed  from  the  hatred  of  Lord  Vin 
cent,  the  jealousy  of  Mrs.  Dugald,  and  the  depravity  of  both; 
thoughts  of  her  father's  long  and  strange  silence;  thoughts  of 
the  insult  she  had  received  that  evening  in  being  commanded 
to  chaperon  Mrs.  Dugald  to  the  theater;  thoughts  of  the  mys 
terious  sounds  she  had  heard  from  Mrs.  Dugald's  room,  and 
which  she  was  so  far  from  connecting  with  any  idea  of  Katie 
that  she  attributed  them  solely  to  a  quarrel  between  her  two 
precious  companions;  and  lastly  the  ever-recurring  thoughts 
of  that  mysterious  discovery  which  old  Katie  had  made,  and 
which  she  was  so  eager  to  impart  to  her  lady.  Ever  Claudia's 
thoughts,  traveling  in  a  circle,  came  back  to  this  point. 

Wearied  with  fruitless  speculation  she  still  sat  on,  watching- 
the  decaying  fire  and  listening  to  the  thunder  of  the  sea  as 
it  broke  upon  the  rocks  at  the  base  of  the  castle.  At  length  she 
got  up,  drew  aside  the  heavy  window  curtains,  opened  the  strong 
oakeL.  shutters  and  looked  out  upon  the  expanse  of  the  gray  and 
dreary  sea,  dimly  visible  under  the  cloudy  midnight  sky. 

At  last  she  closed  the  window  and  went  to  bed.  But  she  could 
not  sleep.  She  lay  wakeful,  restless,  anxious,  through  the  long 
hours  of  the  middle  night,  and  through  the  gray  dawn  of  morn 
ing  and  the  early  flush  of  day.  A  little  before  her  usual  hour 
of  rising  she  rang  the  bell. 

Sally  answered  it. 

"  Is  Katie  up  ?  "  she  inquired. 

"  No,  ma'am.    Mus'  I  wake  her  ? " 

"Certainly  not.  Let  her  have  her  sleep  out,  poor  creature, 
And  do  you  stop  and  help  me  to  dress." 

And  so  saying  Claudia  arose  and  made  an  elegant  morning 
toilet;  for  Claudia,  like  Mary  Stuart,  would  have  "  dressed  "  had 
she  been  a  lifelong,  hopeless  captive. 

When  her  toilet  was  made  she  directed  Sally  to  bring  her  a 
cup  of  strong  coffee;  and  when  she  had  drunk  it  she  sat  down 
to  wait  with  what  patience  she  could  for  the  awakening  of  old 
Katie. 

Poor  Claudia,  with  all  her  faults,  was  kind  to  her  depend 
ents  and  considerate  of  their  comforts.  And  so,  anxious  as  she 
was  to  hear  the  communication  old  Katie  had  to  make  to  her, 
she  was  resolved  not  to  have  the  old  woman's  rest  broken. 

She  sat  by  the  window  of  her  dressing  room,  looking  out  upon 
the  boundless  sea  from  which  the  sun  was  rising,  and  over 


A   DISCO VEEY. 

which  a  solitary  sail  was  passing.  She  sat  there  until  the  break 
fast  bell  rang.  And  then  she  went  below. 

She  was  the  first  in  the  breakfast  room,  and  she  remained 
there  standing  before  the  fire  full  ten  minutes  before  anyone 
else  appeared. 

Lord  Vincent  was  the  next  to  come  in.  And  Claudia  actually 
started  when  she  saw  the  awful  pallor  of  his  face.  Every  ves 
tige  of  color  had  fled  from  it;  his  brow,  cheeks,  and  even  lips 
were  marble  white ;  his  voice  shook  in  saying  "  good-morning," 
and  his  hand  shook  in  lifting  the  "  Banff  Beacon "  from  the 
table. 

While  Claudia  was  watching  him  in  wonder  and  amazement, 
there  came  a  flutter  and  a  rustle,  and  Mrs.  Dugald  entered  the 
room  all  brightness  and  smiles. 

She  gave  one  quick,  wistful  glance  at  the  viscount,  and  then 
addressed  him  in  a  hurried,  anxious  tone,  speaking  in  the 
Italian  language  and  saying: 

"Rouse  yourself!  Look  not  so  like  an  assassin.  You  will 
bring  suspicion ! " 

"  Hush !  "  answered  the  viscount,  with  a  quick  glance  towards 
Claudia,  which  warned  La  Faustina  that  the  American  lady 
might  be  supposed  to  understand  Italian. 

Claudia  did  understand  it,  and  was  filled  with  a  vague  sense 
of  horror  and  amazement. 

They  sat  down  to  the  table.  Lord  Vincent  followed  Mrs. 
Dugald's  advice  and  tried  to  "rouse"  himself.  And  after  he 
had  two  or  three  cups  of  coffee  he  succeeded. 

Faustina  was  as  bright  as  a  paroquet  and  as  gay  as  a  lark. 
She  prattled  on  in  a  perpetual,  purling  stream  of  music.  Among 
other  things  she  said: 

"  And  do  we  go  to  see  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Dean  in  '  Macbeth '  to 
night,  mon  ami  ? " 

"  Yes ;  and  Lady  Vincent  goes  with  us,"  answered  Lord  Vin 
cent  emphatically. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  my  lord.  I  have  already  declined  to  do 
so,"  said  Claudia,  speaking  with  forced  coolness,  though  her 
heart  was  burning,  her  cheeks  flaming,  and  her  eyes  flashing 
with  indignation. 

"  You  will  think  better  of  it,  my  lady.  You  will  go.  Cuth- 
bert,  pass  the  eggs." 

"I  shall  not,  my  lord,"  replied  Claudia. 

"Why  will  you  not?   Pepper,  Cuthbert." 


212        SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

".'For  the  reason  that  I  gave  you  last  night.  Youi  lordshij 
cannot  wish  me  to  repeat  it  here." 

"  Oh,  a  very  particular  reason  you  gave  me !  The  salt,  Cuth- 
bert,"  said  his  lordship,  coolly  breaking  the  shell  of  his  egg. 

"  A  reason,  my  lord,  that  should  be  considered  sufficiently 
satisfactory  to  relieve  me  from  importunity  on  the  subject," 
answered  Claudia, 

"  If  miladie  does  not  wish  to  go,  we  should  not  urge  her  to 
do  so,"  observed  Mrs.  Dugald,  as  she  slowly  sipped  her  chocolate. ' 

"  Certainly  not.  And  now  I  think  of  it,  you  can  send  over  for 
Mrs.  MacDonald  to  come  and  go  with  us.  The  old  lady  enjoys 
the  drama  excessively  and  will  be  glad  to  come.  So  you  shall 
be  sure  of  your  intellectual  treat,  Faustina." 

"  That  will  be  so  nice ! "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Dugald,  clapping 
her  hands  in  childish  glee. 

Claudia  arose  from  the  table  and  withdrew  to  her  own  apart 
ments.  She  was  revolted  by  the  fulsome  manners  of  the  strange 
woman  who  shared  her  dwelling,  and  she  was  drawn  toward  the 
secret,  whatever  it  was,  that  old  Katie  wished  to  impart  to  her. 

When  she  entered  the  rooms  she  found  them  all  arranged 
tidily  by  the  neat  hands  of  Sally,  who  since  the  death  of  poor 
Ailsie  had  had  the  care  of  them. 

"  Sally,  has  not  Katie  been  up  yet  ? "  inquired  Lady  Vincent. 

"No,  ma'am;  I  don't  think  she's  awake  yet;  I  reckon  she's 
a-oversleepin'  of  herself.  And  I  would  'a'  waked  her  up,  only, 
ma'am,  you  bid  me  not  to  do  it." 

"  What,  do  you  mean  to  say  that  she  has  not  yet  made  her 
appearance  ? "  demanded  Claudia,  in  alarm. 

"  Nobody  aint  seen  nothing  'tall  of  her  this  morning,  ma'am." 

"  Go  to  her  room  at  once  and  see  if  she  is  ill.  She  may  be, 
you  know.  Go  in  quietly,  so  that  you  will  not  awaken  her  if 
she  should  be  asleep,"  said  Claudia,  in  alarm,  for  she  suddenly 
remembered  that  people  of  Katie's  age  and  habit  sometimes  die 
suddenly  and  are  found  dead  in  their  beds. 

Sally  went  on  her  errand,  and  Claudia  stood  waiting  and  lis 
tening  breathlessly  until  her  return. 

"  Laws,  ma'am,  Aunt  Katie's  done  got  up,  and  made  her  bed 
up  and  put  her  room  to  rights,  and  gone  downstairs,"  said 
Sally,  as  she  entered  the  room. 

"  Then  go  at  once,  and  if  she  has  had  her  breakfast  send  her 
op  to  me.  Strange  she  did  not  come." 

Sally  departed  on  this  errand  also,  but  she  was  gone  longer 


A  DISCOVERT.  213 

than  on  the  first.  It  was  nearly  half  an  hour  before  she  re 
turned.  She  came  in  with  a  scared  face,  saying : 

"  Ma'am,  it's  very  odd ;  but  the  servants  say  as  ole  Aunt  Katie 
hasn't  been  down  this  morning." 

"Hasn't  been  down  this  morning?  And  is  not  in  her  room 
either  ? "  cried  Claudia,  in  amazement. 

"  No,  ma'am !  "  answered  Sally,  stretching  her  big  eyes. 

Lady  Vincent  sharply  rang  the  bell. 

The  housekeeper  promptly  answered  it,  entering  the  room  with 
an  anxious  countenance. 

"Mrs.  Murdock",  is  it  true  that  my  servant  Katie  has  not 
been  seen  this  morning  ? " 

"  Me  leddy,  she  has  nae  been  seen,  puir  auld  bodie,  sin'  last 
e'en  at  the  gloaming.  She  didna  come  to  supper,  though  Katie 
isna  use  to  be  that  careless  anent  her  bit  and  sup,  neither." 

"  Not  seen  since  last  evening  at  dusk ! "  exclaimed  Claudia, 
in  consternation. 

"  Na,  me  leddy,  ne'er  a  bit  o'  her,  puir  bodie !  " 

"  Go,  Mrs.  Murdock,  and  send  the  maids  to  look  for  her  in 
every  place  about  the  castle  where  she  is  in  the  habit  of  going. 
And  send  the  men  outside  to  examine  the  premises.  She  may 
be  taken  with  a  fit  somewhere,  and  die  for  want  of  assistance," 
said  Lady  Vincent,  in  alarm. 

"  And  sae  she  may,  me  leddy !  That  is  true  enough,"  re 
plied  the  dame,  nodding  her  head  emphatically  as  she  hurried 
out  on  this  mission. 

Claudia  sat  down  before  her  dressing-room  fire  and  tried 
to  wait  the  issue  patiently.  To  be  sure,  she  thought  Katie 
might  be  in  the  stillroom,  or  the  linen  closet,  or  the  bathroom, 
and  there  could  be  no  reasonable  cause  of  uneasiness.  But 
why,  then,  did  she  not  come  up?  Well,  she  might  have  been 
busy  in  some  one  of  the  above-mentioned  places ;  and  she  might 
have  been  waiting  until  she  thought  her  mistress  should  havo 
got  through  breakfast;  and  perhaps  she  might  come  now  very 
soon;  might  even  enter  at  any  moment.  Such  were  the  thoughts 
that  coursed  through  Claudia's  brain,  as  she  tried  to  sit  still 
before  her  little  fire. 

For  more  than  an  hour  Claudia  waited,  and  then  she  impa 
tiently  rang  the  bell.  It  brought  Mrs.  Murdock  into  the  room. 

"  Has  Katie  been  found  yet  ?  " 

"Na,  me  leddy,  not  a  bit  of  her.  The  servants  are  still 
seeking  her." 


214        SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

"  But  tliis  is  very  strange  and  alarming." 

"It  just  is,  me  leddy.  And  I  canna  but  fear  that  some  ill 
has  happened  till  her,  puir  soul ! " 

"I  will  go  down  and  assist  in  the  search,"  said  Lady  Vin 
cent,  rising  anxiously. 

"Na,  me  leddy,  dinna  gang,  ye  canna  do  ony  good.  The 
lasses  are  seeking  in  every  nook  and  cranny  in  the  house;  and 
if  she  is  biding  in  it  they  will  find  her.  And  the  lads  hae  gone 
outside  to  seek  in  the  grounds,  whilk  same  is  sune  done;  for 
the  castle  yard  and  grounds  are  nae  that  expansive,  as  your 
leddyship  kens." 

"  But  I  cannot  sit  here,  waiting  in  idleness.  It  drives  ma 
half  frantic!  Who  can  say  what  may  not  have  happened  to 
poor  Katie?" 

"Nae,  me  leddy,  dinna  fash  yo'sel?  She  may  e'en  just  ha' 
gone  her  ways  over  to  Banff,  or  some  gait,  and  may  be  back 
sune.  I'll  gae  see  if  they  ha'  brought  in  ony  news." 

"Go,  then,  Mrs.  Murdock,  and  let  me  know  the  instant  you 
hear  anything  definite,"  said  Claudia,  sinking  back  in  her  chair. 

Mrs.  Murdock  left  the  room,  and  another  hour  of  suspense 
passed.  And  then,  uncalled,  the  housekeeper  came  up  again, 
and  said: 

"  It  is  a'  in  vain,  me  leddy.  The  servants  have  sought  every 
where,  within  and  without  the  castle,  and  they  can  na  find  the 
auld  bodie  at  a'!  And  your  leddyship's  ain  footman,  Jamie, 
ha'  come  fra  Banff  and  brought  the  morning  mail,  and  he 
has  na  seen  onything  o'  his  mither  on  the  road." 

"  Good  Heavens !  but  this  is  strange  and  very  dreadful. 
Send  Jim  up  to  me  at  once." 

The  housekeeper  went  to  obey.  And  Jim  soon  stood  in  the 
presence  of  his  mistress. 

"  Any  letters  from  America,  Jim  ? "  inquired  Lady  Vincent 
anxiouslyj  and  for  a  moment  forgetting  poor  old  Katie's  un 
known  fatt,. 

"  No,  my  lady,  not  one.    There  was  no  foreign  mail  to-day." 

"  Another  disappointment !  Always  disappointments ! " 
sighed  Claudia.  And  then  reverting  to  the  subject  of  Katie's 
disappearance,  she  said: 

"  What  is  this  about  your  mother,  Jim  ?  When  did  you  see 
her  last  ?  And  have  you  any  idea  where  she  can  be  gone  ? " 

Jim  suddenly  burst  into  tears;  for  we  know  that  he  loved 
his  old  mother  exceedingly;  and  he  sobbed  forth  the  words: 


A  DISCOVEEY.  215 

"  Oh,  my  lady,  I  am  afeared  as  somebody  has  gone  and  made 
way  with  her  as  they  did  with  poor  Ailsie ! " 

"  Gracious  Heaven,  Jim,  what  a  horrible  idea !  and  what  an 
utterly  irrational  one.  Who  could  possibly  have  any  motive 
for  harming  poor  old  Katie?  " 

"  I  don't  know,  my  lady.  But,  you  see,  my  poor  mother  was 
always  a-watching  and  a-listening  about  after  his  lordship  and 
that  strange  lady.  And  I  know  they  noticed  it,  and  maybe  they 

have  done  made  way  with  mother My  lady!  oh!  you  are 

fainting !  You  are  dying ! "  cried  Jim,  suddenly  breaking  off, 
and  rushing  towards  his  mistress,  who  had  turned  deadly  pale, 
and  fallen  back  in  her  chair. 

"  No,  no !  water,  water ! "  cried  Lady  Vincent,  struggling  to 
overcome  her  weakness. 

Jim  flew  and  brought  her  a  full  glass.  She  quaffed  its  con 
tents  eagerly,  and  sat  up,  and  tried  to  collect  her  panic-stricken 
faculties.  She  had  received  a  dreadful  shock.  Jim's  words 
had  given  the  key  to  the  whole  mystery.  In  one  terrible  moment 
the  ghastly  truth  had  burst  upon  her.  She  understood,  now,  the 
whole.  She  could  combine  the  circumstances :  Katie's  agitated 
meeting  with  her  on  the  stairs;  the  communication  which  the 
poor  faithful  old  creature  seemed  so  eager  to  make,  and  which 
must  have  related  to  some  discovery  that  she  had  made;  the 
mysterious  noises  heard  in  Mrs.  Dugald's  apartments;  the 
guilty  paleness  of  the  viscount  at  the  breakfast  table;  the 
strange  words  spoken  in  Italian  by  Faustina;  the  mysterious 
disappearance  of  Katie;  all,  all  these  pointed  to  one  dreadful 
deed,  from  the  bare  thought  of  which  all  Claudia's  soul  re 
coiled  in  horror. 

"  Jim !  "  she  gasped,  in  a  choking  voice. 

"My  lady!" 

"At  what  hour  last  evening  did  you  see  your  mother?" 

"Just  a  little  after  sunset.  The  last  dinner  bell  had  rung; 
and  I  brought  some  coal  up  to  put  on  your  ladyship's  fire,  and 
I  set  it  on  the  outside  of  the  door,  intending  to  take  it  in  as 
soon  as  your  ladyship  came  out  to  go  down  to  dinner.  Well, 
I  was  standing  there  waiting  with  the  coal  when  I  saw  my 
lord's  door  open  and  Mr.  Frisbie  come  out,  with  such  a  face ! 
Oh,  my  lady !  I  don't  know  how  to  describe  it ;  but  it  had  a 
cruel,  cowardly,  desperate  look — as  if  he  would  have  cut  some 
one's  throat  to  save  himself  a  shilling!  He  passed  on  down 
stairs  without  erer  seeing  me.  And  the  next  minute  my  lord 


216         SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

came  out  of  the  same  room,  with — I  beg  your  pardon,  my  ladj 
• — a  look  of  wicked  triumph  on  his  face.  He  was  even  laughing, 
like  he  had  done  something  that  pleased  him.  And  he  happened 
to  look  up  and  see  me,  and  he  growled: 

" '  What  are  you  doing  there,  fellow  ? ' 

tt  And  I  bowed  down  to  the  ground  a'most,  and  answered : 

"  *  I  have  brought  up  coal  for  my  lady's  rooms,  my  lord.' 

" '  Very  well,'  he  said,  and  he  went  on. 

"Next  thing,  I  was  tuk  right  off  my  feet,  by  seeing  of  my 
OTm  mother  come  right  out'n  that  same  room.  And  she  came 
out,  did  the  old  woman,  with  her  eyes  rolled  up  and  her  arms 
lifted  high,  looking  as  she  a'most  always  does  when  she  hears 
anything  dreadful;  looking  just  for  all  the  world  as  she  did  the 
day  she  heard  of  poor  Ailsie's  murder.  Well,  my  lady,  I  felt 
sure  as  she  had  been  a-hiding  of  herself  in  my  lord's  room, 
and  had  discovered  something  horrible.  And  so  I  called  to  her 
in  a  low  voice: 

"'Mother!' 

"  But  she  shook  her  head  at  me,  and  ran  down  the  stairs,  and 
stood  waiting.  And  just  at  that  minute  your  ladyship  came  out 
of  your  room.  You  may  remember,  my  lady,  seeing  me  stand 
ing  there  with  the  coal  as  you  came  out  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Jim,  I  remember,"  replied  Lady  Vincent. 

"  Well,  my  lady,  I  saw  mother  stop  you,  and  I  heard  a  whis 
pered  conversation,  in  which  she  seemed  to  beg  you  to  do  some 
thing  that  you  hadn't  time  to  attend  to,  for  you  went  down 
stairs  and  left  her." 

"  I  was  on  my  way  to  dinner,  you  remember ;  but  I  bade 
Katie  go  into  my  dressing  room  and  await  me  there.  When  I 
went  up  after  dinner,  however,  I  found  that  she  had  not  fol 
lowed  my  directions.  She  was  not  in  my  apartments,  nor  have 
I  seen  her  since." 

"I  beg  pardon,  my  lady;  but,  indeed,  poor  mother  did  obey 
your  ladyship.  She  came  upstairs  again,  and  she  took  the  coal 
hod  out'n  my  hands,  and  said — said  she : 

"'You  go  right  straight  downstairs,  Jim,  and  I'll  tend  to 
my  ladyship's  fires  myself.'  And  I  said : 

"'Mother,'  said  I,  'what's  the  matter?'  And  she  whispered 
to  me: 

"'I  done  hear  somethin'  awful,  Jim;  but  I  must  tell  my 
ladyship  before  I  tells  anyone  else.' 

" '  Was  it  about  poor  Ailsie's  death? '  said  L 


A  DEEP   ONE.  217 

**  Worse  'an  dat,'  she  answered;  and  then  she  went  in  and 
eLut  the  door-  in  my  face.  And  I  come  away.  And  that  was 
the  last  time  as  ever  I  see  my  poor,  dear  old  mother.  She 
never  come  down  to  supper,  nor  likewise  to  play  cards  in  tho 
servant'  hall  in  the  evening,  as  she  is  so  fond  of  doing.  And 
surely,  my  lady,  I  was  not  uneasy,  because  I  knew  she  often 
stayed  in  your  ladyship's  rooms  until  late ;  and  as  I  had  seen  hei 
go  into  them  myself  that  evening,  I  was  feeling  full  sure  that 
she  was  with  you.  And  so  I  went  to  bed  in  peace.  And  this 
morning,  as  I  got  up  and  went  to  the  post  office  before  any  of 
the  woman  servants  were  astir,  of  course  I  didn't  expect  to  see 
her.  But  the  first  thing  as  I  heard  when  I  come  back,  was  as 
she  was  a-missing!  And  oh,  my  lady,  I'm  sure,  I'm  dead  sure, 
as  somebody  has  made  way  with  her ! "  exclaimed  Jim,  bursting 
into  a  fresh  flood  of  tears. 

"Don't  despair,  Jim;  we  must  hope  for  the  best,"  replied 
Lady  Vincent,  in  whose  bosom  not  a  vestige  of  hope  remained. 

But  Jim  only  answered  with  his  tears. 

"  Compose  yourself,  boy ;  and  go  and  say  to  Lord  Vincent 
that  I  request  to  see  him  in  my  boudoir." 

Jim  went  out  with  a  heavy  heart  to  do  his  errand;  but  re 
turned  with  an  answer  that  Lord  Vincent  was  engaged. 

"  I  will  not  be  baffled  in  this  way !  "  muttered  Claudia  to  her 
self.  Then  speaking  aloud  she  inquired :  "  Where  is  his  lord 
ship,  and  upon  what  is  he  engaged  ? " 

"He  is  sitting  in  the  library,  with  a  bottle  of  brandy  and  a 
box  of  cigars  on  the  table  by  him ;  he  is  smoking  and  drinking." 

" '  Smoking  and  drinking '  at  twelve  o'clock  in  the  day ! " 
muttered  Claudia  to  herself,  with  a  motion  of  disgust.  Then 
speaking  up,  she  said :  "  Go  downstairs,  Jim,  and  assist  in  the 
search  for  your  poor  mother ;  I  will  ring  when  I  want  you." 

CHAPTER  XXIX. 

A  DEEP  ONE. 

An  evil  sonl  producing  holy  witness, 
la  like  a  villain  with  a  smiling  face, 
A  goodly  apple,  rotten  at  the  core. 

— Shakspere. 

And  when  her  footman  had  retired  Claudia  gave  herself  up 
to  severe  and  painful  thought  upon  what  she  had  just  heard. 
And  the  more  she  reflected  on  the  circumstances  the  more 


218         SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

firmly  convinced  she  became  that  poor  old  Katie  had  suffered 
foul  play;  though  of  what  precise  nature  or  by  whom  exactly 
dealt  she  could  not  decide.  Whether  Katie  had  been  kidnaped 
and  sent  away;  or  immured  in  one  of  the  underground  dun 
geons  of  the  castle;  or  murdered;  or  whether  the  perpetrators 
of  either  of  these  crimes  were  Lord  Vincent  and  Faustina;  or 
Lord  Vincent  and  Frisbie;  or  Faustina  and  Frisbie;  or  finally, 
whether  all  three  were  implicated,  she  could  not  determine. 
And  the  whole  question  overwhelmed  her  with  horror.  Was 
this  ancient  and  noble  castle  really  a  den  of  thieves  and  assas 
sins?  One  frightful  murder  had  already  been  committed.  An 
other  had  perhaps  been  perpetrated.  Was  even  her  own  life  safe 
in  such  a  cut-throat  place?  She  feared  not;  and  she  knew 
that  she  must  act  with  exceeding  caution  and  prudence  to  in 
sure  her  safety.  What  then  should  she  do?  What  became  her 
duty  in  these  premises  ?  Clearly  she  could  not  leave  the  faith 
ful  servant,  who  had  probably  lost  life  or  liberty  in  her  ser 
vice,  to  such  a  fate.  And  yet  for  Lady  Vincent  to  stir  in  the 
matter  would  be  to  risk  her  own  life. 

No  matter!     Claudia,  with  all  her  faults,  was  no  coward. 

And  with  a  sudden  resolution  she  arose  and  went  downstairs 
and  into  the  library,  where  Lord  Vincent  sat  drinking  and 
smoking. 

"Lady  Vincent,  I  believe  I  sent  you  word  that  I  was  en 
gaged,"  said  the  viscount,  as  soon  as  he  saw  her. 

"Not  very  particularly  engaged,  I  believe,  my  lord,"  said 
Claudia,  resolutely  advancing  toward  him. 

"I  was  smoking.  And  I  understood  that  you  disliked 
smoke,"  said  Lord  Vincent,  throwing  away  the  end  of  his 
cigar. 

"  There  are  crises  in  life,  my  lord,  that  make  us  forget  such 
small  aversions.  One  such  crisis  is  at  hand  now,"  answered 
Claudia  gravely. 

"Will  your  ladyship  explain?"  he  demanded,  placing  a  chair 
for  her.  Evidently  the  brandy  or  something  or  other  had  strung 
up  Lord  Vincent's  nerves. 

Claudia  took  the  seat,  and  sitting  opposite  to  him,  fixed  her 
eyes  upon  his  face  and  said : 

"Are  you  aware,  Lord  Vincent,  that  my  servant  Katie  has 
been  missing  since  yesterday  afternoon  ? " 

"Indeed?  Where  has  the  old  creature  taken  herself  off  to? 
She  has  not  eloped  with  one  of  our  canny  Scots,  has  she  ? "  in- 


A    DEEP    ONE.  219 

quired  the  viscount,  coolly  lighting  another  cigar  and  puffing 
away  at  it. 

"  Such  jesting,  my  lord,  is  cruelly  out  of  place !  It  has  not 
been  many  days  since  a  very  horrid  murder  was  committed 
on  these  premises.  The  murderer  has  eluded  detection.  And 
apparently  such  impunity  has  emboldened  assassins.  I  have 
too  much  cause  to  fear  that  my  poor  old  servant  has  shared 
Ailsie  Dunbar's  fate !  " 

Before  Claudia  had  finished  her  sentence  Lord  Vincent  had 
dropped  his  cigar  and  was  gazing  at  her  in  ill-concealed 
terror. 

"  What  cause  have  you  for  such  absurd  fears  ?  Pray  do  you 
take  the  castle  of  my  ancestors  to  be  the  lair  of  banditti?" 
he  asked  in  a  tone  of  assumed  effrontery,  but  of  real  cowardice. 

"  For  something  very  like  that  indeed,  my  lord ! "  answered 
Claudia,  with  a  terrible  smile. 

"I  ask  you  what  cause  have  you  for  entertaining  these  pre 
posterous  suspicions  ? " 

"  First  of  all,  the  assassination  of  Ailsie  Dunbar  and  the 
successful  concealment  of  her  murderer.  Secondly,  the  mys 
terious  disappearance  of  my  servant  Katie,  just  at  a  time  when 
it  was  desirable  to  some  parties  to  get  her  out  of  the  way,"  said 
Claudia  emphatically,  and  fixing  her  eyes  firmly  on  the  face  of 
the  viscount,  that  visibly  paled  before  her  gaze. 

"  What — what  do  you  mean  by  that  ?  " 

"My  lord,  I  will  tell  you.  Yesterday  afternoon,  as  I  was 
descending  to  dinner,  old  Katie  met  me  on  the  stairs  and  with 
a  frightened  face  told  me  that  she  had  made  an  important  dis 
covery  that  she  wished  to  communicate  to  me.  I  directed  her 
to  go  to  my  dressing  room  and  wait  there  until  my  return  from 
dinner,  when  I  fully  intended  to  hasten  at  once  to  her  side 
and  hear  what  she  had  to  say " 

"  Some  '  mare's  nest '  of  a  new  rumor  concerning  the  mur 
derer  of  Ailsie  Dunbar,  I  suppose,"  said  the  viscount,  with  a 
feeble  attempt  to  sneer. 

"No,  my  lord,  I  rather  think  it  was  something  concerning 
my  own  safety.  But  I  never  knew;  for  you  may  reccollect  that 
on  last  evening  your  lordship  detained  me  in  conversation  some 
time  after  dinner.  When  I  went  to  my  dressing  room  Katie 
was  not  there.  I  thought  she  had  grown  sleepy  and  had  gone 
to  bed,  and  so  I  felt  no  anxiety  on  that  score.  But  this  morning 
my  lord^  she  is  missing.  She  is  nowhere  to  be  found." 


220        SELF-RAISED;  OB,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

"  Oh,  I  dare  say  she  has  gone  visiting  some  of  the  country 
people  with  whom  she  has  picked  acquaintance.  She  will  turn 
up  all  right  by  and  by." 

"I  fear  not>  my  lord." 

"Why  do  you 'fear  not'?" 

"Because  there  are  other  very  suspicious  circumstances  con 
nected  with  the  disappearance  of  Katie,  that  since  her  evan- 
ishment  have  recurred  to  my  memory,  or  been  brought  to  my 
knowledge." 

"  Pray,  may  one  ask  without  indiscretion  what  these  sus 
picious  circumstances  are  ? " 

"  Certainly,  my  lord ;  it  was  to  report  them  that  I  came  here. 
First,  then,  last  evening  on  my  return  towards  my  own  room  I 
was  a  little  startled  by  hearing  a  scream,  quickly  smothered, 
and  then  a  fall  and  a  scuffling,  soon  silenced.  These  sounds 
came  from  the  apartment  of  Mrs.  Dugald 

"  The  demon !  "  burst  involuntarily  from  the  unguarded  lips 
of  Lord  Vincent. 

Claudia  heard,  but  continued  to  speak  as  though  she  had  not 
heard. 

— "  I  caught  one  single  word  of  the  conversation  that  ensued. 
It  was — '  Faustina ! '  and  it  was  your  voice  that  uttered  it.  I 
therefore  supposed  at  the  time,  my  lord,  that  you  were  only 
having  one  of  your  customary  slight  misunderstandings  with 
your — sister-in-law." 

"  Yes,  yes,  yes,  yes,  that  was  it !  She  was  suffering  from  an 
attack  of  hysterics;  and  I  had  to  go  in  and  control  her  a  little. 
She  has  been  subject  to  these  attacks  ever  since  the  death  of 
her  husband,  poor  woman,"  said  he,  in  a  quavering  voice. 

Claudia  eyed  him  closely  and  continued : 

"  That  was  the  circumstance  that  recurred  to  my  memory  with 
so  much  significance  when  Katie  was  reported  missing  this 
morning.  Then,  upon  making  inquiries  as  to  where  and  by 
whom  she  was  last  seen,  another  very  significant  circumstance 
was  brought  to  my  knowledge;  that  she  was  seen  last  evening 
to  issue  from  your  rooms  immediately  after  you  and  your 
valet  left  them;  and  it  appears  to  have  been  jvst  after  that 
she  met  me  on  the  steps." 

"  Flames  of 1  What  was  she  doing  in  my  rooms  ?  "  ex 
claimed  the  viscount,  losing  all  self-command  for  the  moment 
and  turning  ghastly  white  with  the  mingled  passions  of  rage 
and  terror. 


A  DEEP  ONE.  221 

K I  do  not  know,  my  lord ;  probably  her  duty,  a  part  of  which 
is  to  keep  your  linen  in  order.  But  whatever  took  her  to  your 
rooms,  on  that  occasion,  or  detained  her  there,  it  is  very  evi 
dent  that  while  there  she  made  some  frightful  discovery  which 
she  wished  to  communicate  and  would  have  communicated  to 
me  had  she  not  been — prevented,"  said  Claudia  firmly. 

Lord  Vincent  was  tremendously  agitated,  but  struggled  hard 
to  regain  composure.  At  last  he  succeeded. 

"Who  told  you  that  she  was  seen  coming  from  my  rooms? 
What  spy,  what  eavesdropper,  what  mischief-maker  have  you  in 
your  employ  that  goes  about  my  house — watching,  listening, 
and  tale-bearing?  If  I  detect  such  a  culprit  in  the  act  I  will 
break  his  or  her  neck,  and  that  you  may  rely  upon ! "  he  said. 

"  Have  you  broken  Katie's  neck  ?  "  inquired  Lady  Vincent. 

"Ha,  ha,  ha!  If  I  had  caught  her  hiding  in  my  rooms  I 
should  have  done  so  beyond  all  doubt !  Luckily  for  her  I  did  not 
do  so,  as  you  must  be  aware,  since  you  say  she  was  seen  coming 
out  of  them." 

"  Yes;  but  she 'was  never  seen  to  leave  the  castle !  " 

"  Lady  Vincent,  what  is  it  that  you  dare  to  insinuate  ?  " 

"  My  lord,  I  insinuate  nothing.  I  tell  you  plainly  that  I  feel 
myself  to  be — not  in  a  nobleman's  castle,  but  in  a  brigand's 
fastness ;  and  that  I  suspect  my  poor  old  servant  has  been  foully 
made  way  with." 

"  Lady  Vincent,  how  dare  you !  " 

"  You  may  glare  at  me,  my  lord,  but  you  shall  not  intimidate 
me.  I  have  seen  one  murdered  woman  in  the  house;  I  do 
strongly  suspect  the  presence  of  another,  and  I  know  not  how 
soon  my  own  life  may  fall  a  sacrifice  to  the  evil  passions  of  the 
fiend  that  rules  your  fate.  I  have  been  silent  in  regard  to  my 
deep  wrongs  for  a  long  time,  my  lord.  But  now  that  my  poor 
servant  has  fallen  a  victim  to  her  fidelity,  I  can  be  silent  no 
longer!  I  am  here  alone,  helpless,  and  in  your  power!  Yet 
I  must  make  my  protest,  and  trust  in  God's  mercy  to  deliver 
me,  and  what  is  left  of  mine,  from  the  hands  of  the  spoiler ! " 
said  Claudia  solemnly. 

Sometimes  necessity  compels  people  to  think  and  act  with 
great  rapidity;  to  rally  their  faculties  and  charge  a  difficulty 
at  a  moment's  notice. 

This  was  the  case  with  the  Viscount  Vincent  now.  Very 
quickly  he  collected  his  mind,  formed  his  resolution,  and  acted 
upon  it. 


222         SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

"Lady  Vincent,"  he  said,  in  a  kinder  tone  than  he  had  yet 
used,  "your  words  shock  and  appall  me  beyond  all  measure. 
Your  suspicions  wrong  me  cruelly,  foully;  I  know  nothing  what 
ever  of  the  fate  of  your  woman;  on  my  soul  and  honor,  I  do 
not!  But  if  you  really  suspect  that  anyone  had  an  interest  in 
the  taking  off  of  that  poor  old  creature,  tell  me  at  once  to  whom 
your  suspicions  point,  and  I  will  do  my  very  utmost  to  discover 
the  truth.  By  all  my  hopes  of  final  redemption  and  salva 
tion,  I  will !  "  he  added,  looking  earnestly  in  her  face. 

Claudia  gazed  at  him  in  utter  amazement.  Could  this  be 
true?  she  asked  herself.  Could  a  man  look  so  full  in  her  face, 
speak  so  earnestly,  and  swear  by  such  sacred  things,  while  tell 
ing  a  falsehood.  To  one  of  Claudia's  proud  nature  it  was  easier 
to  believe  a  man  guilty  of  murder  than  of  lying  and  perjury. 
She  was  thoroughly  perplexed. 

Lord  Vincent  saw  the  effect  his  words  had  had  upon  her,  and 
he  was  encouraged  to  follow  up  his  success. 

"Whom  do  you  suspect,  Claudia?"  he  inquired. 

She  answered  honestly. 

"  My  Icrd,  I  will  tell  you  truly.    I  suspect  you." 

"Me!"  he  exclaimed,  with  a  laugh  of  incredulity.  Never 
were  honest  scorn  and  righteous  indignation  more  forcibly  ex 
pressed.  "  Me !  Why,  Claudia,  in  the  name  of  all  the  insanities 
in  Bedlam,  why  should  you  suspect  me?  What  interest  could  I 
possibly  have  in  getting  rid  of  your  amusing  gorilla? " 

"  My  lord,  I  hope  that  I  have  wronged  you ;  but  I  feared 
that  Katie  had  become  possessed  of  some  secret  of  yours  which 
you  wished  to  prevent  her  from  divulging." 

"  And  for  that  you  thought  I  would  have  taken  her  life  ?  " 

"  For  that  reason  I  thought  you  would  have  made  away  with 
her — by  kidnaping  and  sending  her  out  of  the  country,  or  by 
immuring  her  in  one  of  the  dungeons  of  the  castle,  or  even 
by " 

"  Speak  out !     '  Cutting  her  throat,'  why  don't  you  say  ?  " 

"  Oh,  Lord  Vincent,  but  this  is  horrible,  horrible ! "  shud 
dered  Claudia. 

"Ha,  ha,  ha!  Well,  upon  my  life,  my  lady,  you  are  exces 
sively  complimentary  to  me!  But  I  am  willing  to  believe  that 
the  tragic  event  of  last  week  has  shattered  your  nervous  sys 
tem  and  disturbed  the  equilibrium  of  your  mind.  But  for  that 
I  should  hardly  know  how  to  pardon  your  absurd  insults.  Have 
you  anything  more  to  say  to  me,  Lady  Vincent?" 


A   DEEP   ONE.  223 

"Only  this,  my  lord;  that  if  I  find  I  have  wronged  you  by 
this  dreadful  suspicion,  as  perhaps  I  have,  I  shall  be  glad,  yes, 
overjoyed,  to  acknowledge  it  and  beg  your  pardon.  And,  in 
the  meantime,  I  must  ask  you  to  keep  your  word  with  me,  and 
investigate  the  disappearance  of  Katie ! " 

"  I  will  do  so  willingly,  Lady  Vincent.  And  now  a  word 
with  you.  Will  you  not  change  your  mind  and  go  with  us  to 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Dean  to-night  ? " 

"No,  my  lord,"  replied  Claudia,  in  a  tone  that  admitted  of 
no  further  discussion  of  the  question. 

And  thus  they  parted. 

For  some  time  after  Claudia  left  the  library  Lord  Vincent; 
remained  sitting  with  his  brows  contracted,  his  mouth  clenched, 
and  his  eyes  fixed  upon  the  ground.  He  was  in  deep  thought. 
Handsome  man  as  he  was,  villain  was  written  all  over  his  face, 
form,  and  manner  in  characters  that  even  a  child  could  have 
read;  and,  therefore,  no  one  was  to  be  pitied  who,  having  once 
seen  Lord  Vincent,  suffered  themselves  to  be  deceived  by  him. 

Presently  he  arose,  bent  toward  the  door  and  peered  out,  and, 
seeing  that  the  coast  was  clear,  he  went  out  with  his  stealthy, 
cat-like  step,  and  stole  softly  to  the  room  of  Mrs.  Dugald. 

She  was  in  her  boudoir. 

He  entered  without  knocking,  locked  the  door  behird  him, 
and  went  and  sat  down  by  her  side. 

"  What  now  ?  "  she  inquired,  looking  up. 

"  What  now  ?    Why,  all  is  lost  unless  we  act  promptly ! " 

«I  said  it." 

"  Faustina,  she  has  missed  Katie !  " 

"  That  was  a  matter  of  course." 

"But  she  suspects  her  fate." 

"  What  care  we  what  she  suspects  ?  She  can  prove  nothing," 
said  Mrs.  Dugald  contemptuously. 

"  Faustina,  she  can  prove  everything  if  she  follows  up  the  clew 
she  has  found.  Listen.  She  was  in  the  hall,  near  the  door, 
when  the  deed  was  done!  She  heard  the  struggle  and  the  cry 
and  a  part  of  our  conversation." 

"  We  shall  all  be  guillotined !  "  cried  the  woman,  starting 
to  her  feet  and  standing  before  him  in  deadly  terror. 

"  Wo  have  no  guillotining  in  England ;  but  hanging  is  equally 
or  even  more  disagreeable." 

"How  can  you  talk  so  when  my  bones  are  turning  to  gristle 
and  my  heart  to  jelly  with  the  fright ! "  cried  Mrs.  Dugald. 


224        SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

"  I  jest  to  reassure  you.  If  we  act  with  promptitude  there 
will  be  no  danger;  not  in  the  least.  I  have  thrown  her  off  the 
scent  for  the  present;  I  have  told  her  that  the  noise,  the  strug 
gle,  the  cry,  and  the  exclamation  she  heard  were  nothing  but 
this — that  you  were  suffering  from  an  attack  of  hysterics,  and 
that  I  was  trying  to  control  and  soothe  you.  I  told  her  that 
I  knew  nothing  whatever  of  the  fate  of  her  gorilla;  and  I  did 
not  spare  the  most  solemn  oaths  to  assure  her  of  the  truth  of 
statement." 

"  Good !  but  was  she  assured  ? " 

"Not  fully.  She  is  confused,  bewildered,  perplexed,  thrown 
out  of  her  reckoning  and  off  the  track;  and  before  she  has  time 
to  recover  herself,  collect  her  faculties,  and  get  upon  the  scent 
again,  we  must  act.  We  must  draw  the  net  around  her.  We 
must  place  her  in  a  position  in  which  her  character  as  a  wit* 
ness  against  you  would  be  totally  vitiated.  To  do  this  we  must 
hasten  the  denouement  of  the  plot." 

"  That  plot  which  will  rid  me  of  my  rival  and  make  me — me 
— Lady  Vincent !  "  exclaimed  the  siren,  her  eyes  sparkling  with 
anticipated  triumph. 

"  Yes,  my  angel,  yes !    And  I  would  it  were  to-morrow !  " 

"  Ah,  but,  in  the  meanwhile,  if  I  should  be  found  out  and 
guillotined ! "  she  cried,  with  a  shudder. 

"Hanged,  my  angel,  hanged;  not  guillotined!  I  told  you 
•we  do  not  guillotine  people  in  England." 

"  Ah — h — h !  "  shrieked  the  guilty  woman,  covering  her  face 
•vrith  her  hands. 

"  But  I  tell  you  there  is  no  danger,  my  love ;  none  at  all,  if 
•we  do  but  act  promptly  and  firmly.  The  time  is  ripe.  The  plot 
is  ripe.  She  herself  walks  into  the  trap,  by  insisting  on  stay 
ing  at  home  this  evening,  instead  of  accompanying  us  to  the 
theater.  I  have  sent  the  carriage  for  Mrs.  MacDonald.  She 
will  come  to  luncheon  with  us,  rnd  afterwards  go  with  us  to 
the  play.  My  lady  will  remain  at  home,  by  her  own  request." 

"  Does  Frisbie  know  the  part  he  is  to  play  ?  " 

"Yes;  but  not  the  precise  hour  of  his  debut.  That  I  shall 
teach  him  to-day.  He  will  be  well  up  in  his  lesson  by  thia 
evening,  you  may  depend." 

"  Ah,  then  we  shall  finish  the  work  to-night! " 

"We  shall  finish  it  to-night." 

"But  Mrs.  MacDonald — will  she  not  be  in  the  ^ay?" 

"No;  as  I  shall  arrange  matters,  she  will  be  of  the  greatest 


A   NIGHT   OF  HOEKOB.  225 

use  and  help  to  us,  without  knowing  it.  First,  as  a  most  re 
spectable  chaperon  for  you,  and,  secondly,  as  a  most  indubit 
able  witness  of  the  fall  of  Lady  Vincent." 

"  Good !  good !  I  see !  To-night,  then,  she  shall  be  cast  down 
from  her  proud  pedestal.  And  to-morrow " 

"  To-morrow  she  shall  be  dismissed  from  the  castle." 

"But  then  I  shall  have  to  go,  too.  I  could  not  stay — the 
world  would  talk." 

"  No,  Faustina,  you  shall  not  go.  I  shall  go  and  leave  you 
here,  and  invite  Mrs.  MacDonald  to  remain  and  bear  you  com 
pany  until — until  I  shall  be  free,  my  angel,  to  return  and  make 
you  my  wife." 

She  clapped  her  hands  with  great  glee  and  eagerly  demanded : 

"And  when  will  that  be?  Oh,  when  will  that  be?  How 
soon  ?  how  soon  ? " 

"It  may  be  weeks;  it  may  be  months;  for  the  Divorce 
Courts  are  proverbially  slow.  But  the  time  will  come  at  length; 
for  I  have  taken  every  measure  to  insure  perfect  success." 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

A  NIGHT  OP  HORROR. 

He  threw  his  sting  into  a  poisonous  libel 
And  on  the  honor  of — oh  God! — his  wife, 
The  nearest,  dearest  part  of  all  men's  honor, 
Left  a  base  slur  to  pass  from  month  to  mouthy 
Of  loose  mechanics  with  all  foul  comments, 
Of  villainous  jests  and  blasphemies  obscene; 
While  sneering  nobles  in  more  polished  guise 
Whispered  the  tale  and  smiled  upon  the  lie. 

— Byron. 

Claudia  passed  a  weary  day.  She  did  not  cease  in  her  efforts 
to  discover  some  clew  to  the  disappearance  of  old  Katie.  But 
all  her  efforts  were  fruitless  of  success. 

Early  in  the  afternoon  the  carriage  that  was  sent  for  Mrs. 
MacDonald  returned,  bringing  that  lady. 

Claudia  did  not  go  down  into  the  drawing  room  to  receive 
her;  she  considered  Mrs.  Dugald's  companion,  whatever  her 
pretensions  might  be,  no  proper  associate  for  Lady  Vincent. 
She  met  the  visitor,  however,  at  dinner,  which  was  served  some 
hours  earlier  than  usual  in  order  to  give  the  play-going  party 
time  enough  to  reach  their  destination  before  the  rising  of  tha 


226         SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

curtain.  She  found  Mrs.  MacDonald  to  be  a  thin,  pale,  shabby 
woman,  about  forty  years  of  age;  one  of  those  poor,  harmless, 
complacent  creatures  who,  when  they  can  do  so  without  break 
ing  any  law  of  God  or  man,  are  willing  to  compromise  a  good 
deal  of  their  self-respect  to  secure  privileges  which  they  could 
not  otherwise  enjoy. 

And  though  Mrs.  MacDonald  was  a  descendant  of  the  re 
nowned  "  Lords  of  the  Isles,"  and  was  as  proud  of  her  lineage  as 
any  aristocrat  alive,  yet  she  did  not  hesitate  to  accept  an  invi 
tation  to  go  to  the  theater  with  Lord  Vincent,  who  was  called 
a  "fast"  man,  and  Mrs.  Dugald,  who  was  more  than  a  sus 
pected  woman.  Claudia  treated  this  lady  with  the  cold  polite 
ness  that  the  latter  could  neither  enjoy  nor  complain  of.  Im 
mediately  after  dinner  the  party  left  for  Banff. 

Few  good  women  have  ever  been  so  distressingly  misplaced 
as  Claudia  was;  therefore  few  could  understand  the  hourly 
torture  she  suffered  from  the  mere  presence  of  her  vicious  com 
panions,  or  the  infinite  sense  of  relief  she  felt  in  being  rid  of 
them,  if  only  for  one  evening.  She  felt  the  atmosphere  the 
purer  for  their  absence,  and  breathed  more  freely  than  she  had 
done  for  many  days. 

She  soon  left  the  drawing  room,  whose  atmosphere  was  in- 
fected  and  disturbed  with  memories  of  Mrs.  Dugald,  and  re 
tired  to  her  own  boudoir,  where  all  was  comparatively  pure  and 
peaceful. 

A  deep  bay-window  from  this  room  overhung  the  sea.  There, 
was  a  softly  cushioned  semicircular  sofa  around  this  window, 
and  a  round  mosaic  table  within  it. 

Claudia  drew  aside  the  golden-brown  curtains  and  sat  down 
to  watch  the  gray  expanse  of  ocean,  over  which  the  night  was 
now  closing. 

While  gazing  abstractedly  out  at  sea  she  was  thinking  of 
Katie.  Now  that  the  darkening  influence  of  Mrs.  Dugald'a 
and  Lord  Vincent's  presence  was  withdrawn  from  her  sphere, 
she  was  enabled  to  think  clearly  and  decide  firmly.  Now  that 
the  viscount  no  longer  stood  before  her,  exercising  his  diaboli 
cal  powers  of  duplicity  upon  her  judgment,  she  no  longer  be 
lieved  his  protestations  of  ignorance  in  regard  to  Katie's  fate. 
On  the  contrary,  she  felt  convinced  that  he  knew  all  about  it. 
She  did  not  now  suppose,  what  her  first  frenzied  terrors  had  sug 
gested,  that  Katie  had  been  murdered,  but  that  she  had  bec-n 
abducted,  or  confined,  to  prevent  her  from  divulging  some  secrcl 


A  ITCGHT  OF  HOEROE.  227 

ix)  the  prejudice  of  the  viscount  of  which  she  had  hecome  pos 
sessed.  For  Claudia  had  read  the  viscount's  character  aright, 
and  she  knew  that  though  he  would  not  hesitate  to  break  every 
commandment  in  the  Decalogue  when  he  could  do  so  with  im 
punity,  yet  he  would  not  commit  any  crime  that  would  jeopar 
dize  his  own  life  or  liberty.  Therefore  she  knew  he  had  not 
murdered  Katie;  but  she  believed  that  he  had  "sequestrated" 
her  in  some  way. 

Having  come  to  this  conclusion,  Claudia  next  considered 
what  her  own  duty  was  in  the  premises.  Clearly  it  was  for 
har  to  take  every  measure  for  the  deliverance  of  her  faithful 
.-servant,  no  matter  how  difficult  or  repugnant  those  measures 
•should  be. 

Therefore  she  resolved  that  early  the  next  morning  she  would 
order  the  carriage  and  go  on  her  own  responsibility  and  lodge 
information  with  the  police  of  the  mysterious  disappearance 
of  her  servant  and  the  suspicious  circumstances  that  attended 
her  evanishment.  Claudia  knew  that  the  eye  of  the  police  was 
still  on  the  castle,  because  it  was  believed  to  hold  the  unde 
tected  murderer  of  Ailsie  Dunbar,  and  that,  therefore,  their 
action  upon  the  present  event  would  be  prompt  and  keen.  She 
knew,  also,  that  the  investigation  would  bring  much  exposure 
and  scandal  to  the  castle  and  its  inmates;  and  that  it  would 
enrage  Lord  Vincent  and  result  in  the  final  separation  of  her 
self  and  the  viscount.  But  why,  she  asked  herself,  should  she 
hesitate  on  that  account? 

The  price  for  which  she  had  sold  herself  had  not  been  paid. 
She  had  her  empty  title,  but  no  position.  She  was  not  a  peeress 
among  peeresses;  not  a  queen  of  beauty  and  of  fashion,  leading 
the  elite  of  society  in  London.  Ah,  no !  she  was  a  despised  and 
neglected  wife,  wasting  the  flower  of  her  youth  in  a  remote  and 
dreary  coast  castle,  and  daily  insulted  and  degraded  by  the 
presence  of  an  unprincipled  rival. 

Claudia  was  by  this  time  so  worn  out  in  body  and  spirit,  so 
thoroughly  wearied  and  sickened  of  her  life  in  the  castle,  that 
she  only  desired  to  get  away  with  her  servants  and  pass  the  re 
mainder  of  her  days  in  peaceful  obscurity. 

And  her  contemplated  act  of  complaining  to  the  authorities 
was  to  be  her  first  step  towards  that  end.  Having  resolved  upon 
this  measure,  Claudia  felt  more  at  ease.  She  drew  the  curtains 
of  her  window,  and  seated  herself  in  her  favorite  easy-chair 
before  the  bright,  sea-coal  fire,  and  rang  for  tea.  Sally  brought 


228         BELF-KAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

the  waiter  up  to  her  mistress,  and  remained  in  attendance  upon 
her. 

"Has  anything  been  heard  of  Katie  yet?"  inquired  Lady 
Vincent. 

"No,  ma'am,  nothing  at  all,"  answered  Sally  through  her 
sobs. 

"  Don't  cry ;  tell  them  when  you  go  down,  to  keep  up  the 
search  through  the  neighborhood;  and  if  she  is  not  forthcoming 
before  to-morrow  morning,  I  will  take  such  steps  as  shall  insure 
her  discovery,"  said  Lady  Vincent,  as  she  sipped  her  tea. 

Sally  only  wept  in  reply. 

"  Remove  this  service  now.  And  you  need  not  come  up 
again  this  evening  unless  you  have  news  to  bring  me  of  Katie, 
for  I  need  to  be  alone,"  said  Lady  Vincent,  as  she  sat  her  empty 
cup  upon  the  waiter. 

Sally  took  the  service  from  the  room. 

And  the  viscountess  wheeled  her  chair  around  to  the  fire, 
placed  her  feet  upon  the  fender,  and  yielded  her  wearied  and 
distracted  spirit  up  to  the  healing  and  soothing  influences  of 
night  and  solitude.  As  she  sat  there,  the  words  of  a  beautiful 
hymn  glided  into  her  memory.  Often  before  this  evening,  lying 
alone  and  wakeful  upon  her  bed, — feeli»g  the  great  blessing 
night  brought  her,  in  isolating  her  entirely  from  her  evil  com 
panions,  and  drawing  her  into  a  purer  sphere,  feeling  all  the 
sweet  and  holy  influences  of  night  around  her, — she  had  soothed 
her  spirit  to  rest  repeating  the  words  of  Mr.  Longfellow's  hymn; 

"  From  the  cool  cisterns  of  the  midnight  air 

My  spirit  drinks  repose: 
The  fountains  of  perpetual  peace  flows  there, 
From  those  deep  cisterns  flows. 

Oh,  Holy  Night!  from  thee  I  learn  to  bear 

What  souls  have  borne  before, 
Thon  lay'st  thy  fingers  on  the  lips  of  care 

And  they  complain  no  more. 

Peace!    Peace!    Orestes-like  I  breathe  this  prayer, 

Descend  with  broad-winged  flight, 
The  welcome,  the  tlirice  prayed-for,  the  most  fair, 

The  best  beloved  Night!  " ' 

She  repeated  it  now.    And  it  soothed  her  like  a  benediction 

A  solitary  night  in  her  own  boudoir  would  not  seem  to  pron> 

ise  much  enjoyment;  yet  Claudia  was  happier,  because  more 

peaceful  now  than  she  had  ever  ^een  since  her  first  arrive 

at  Castle  Cragg. 


A   NIGHT   OF   HORROR.  229 

She  sat  on,  letting  the  hours  pass  calmly  and  silently  over 
her,  until  the  clock  struck  ten.  Then  to  her  surprise  she  heard 
a  knocking  at  the  outer  hall  door,  followed  by  the  sound  of  aa 
arrival,  and  of  many  footsteps  hastening  up  the  stairs. 

Claudia  arose  to  her  feet  in  astonishment,  and  at  the  same 
moment  heard  the  voice  of  the  \iscount  without,  saying  in 
ruffianly  tones: 

"  Burst  open  the  door  then !  Don't  you  see  it  is  locked  oiv 
the  inside  ? " 

And  with  a  violent  kick  the  door  of  Claudia's  boudoir,  which 
certainly  was  not  locked,  was  thrown  open,  and  Lord  Vincent, 
with  inflamed  cheeks  and  blood-shot  eyes,  strode  into  the  room, 
followed  by  Mrs.  Dugald,  Mrs.  MacDonald,  and  old  Cuthbert. 

"  Keep  the  door,  sir !  Let  no  one  pass  out !  "  roared  the  vis 
count  to  his  butler,  who  immediately  shut  the  door  and  placed 
himself  against  it. 

"  My  lord ! "  exclaimed  Claudia,  in  indignant  amazement, 
"  what  is  the  meaning  of  this  violence  ? " 

"  It  means,  my  lady,  that  you  are  discovered,  run  to  earth, 
entrapped,  cunning  vixen  as  you  are ! "  exclaimed  the  viscount, 
with  an  air  of  vindictive  triumph. 

Mrs.  Dugald  laughed  scornfully. 

Mrs.  MacDonald  turned  up  her  chin  contemptuously. 

Old  Cuthbert  groaned  aloud. 

Claudia  looked  from  one  to  the  other,  and  then  said: 

"  My  lord,  you  and  your  friends  appear  to  have  been  supping 
on  very  bad  wine;  I  would  counsel  you  to  retire  and  sleep  off 
its  effects." 

"Ha,  ha,  my  lady!  You  take  things  coolly!  I  compliment 
you  on  your  self-possession ! "  sneered  the  viscount. 

Her  heart  nearly  bursting  with  anger,  Claudia  threw  herself 
into  her  chair,  and  with  difficulty  controlling  her  emotions, 
said: 

"  Will  your  lordship  do  me  the  favor  to  explain  your  errand  in 
this  room,  and  then  retire  with  your  party  as  speedily  as  pos 
sible?" 

"  Certainly,  my  lady,  that  is  but  reasonable,  and  is  also  just 
what  I  intended  to  do,"  said  the  viscount,  bowing  with  mock 
courtesy. 

And  he  drew  a  letter  from  his  pocket  and  held  it  in  his  hand, 
while  he  continued  to  speak,  addressing  himself  now  to  tha 
whole  party  assembled  in  Lady  Vincent's  boudoir. 


230  SELF-RAISED  ;    OR,    FROM   THE   DEPTII3. 

"  It  is  necessary  to  premise,  friends,  that  my  marriage  with 
this  lady  was  a  hasty,  ill-advised,  and  inconsiderate  one;  un 
acceptable  to  my  family,  unfortunate  for  myself,  humiliating 
in  its  results.  For  some  weeks  past  my  suspicions  were  aroused 
to  the  fact  that  all  was  not  right  between  the  viscountess  and 
another  member  of  my  establishment.  Cuthbert,  keep  that 
door !  Let  no  one  rush  past !  " 

"  Ah,  me  laird ;  dinna  fash  yoursel' !  I'll  keep  it !  "  groaned 
the  old  man,  putting  his  back  firmly  against  the  door. 

"  Lord  Vincent,"  exclaimed  Claudia  haughtily,  "  I  demand 
that  you  retract  your  words.  You  know  them  to  be  as  false — 
as  false  as — yourself.  They  could  not  be  falser  than  that !  " 

"  I  will  prove  every  word  that  I  have  spoken  to  be  true ! " 
replied  the  viscount.  Then  continuing  his  story,  he  said: 
"  This  morning  certain  circumstances  strengthened  my  sus 
picions.  Among  others  the  persistence  with  which  her  ladyship, 
though  in  good  health,  and  with  no  other  engagement  at  hand, 
resolved  and  adhered  to  her  resolution  to  remain  at  home  and 
miss  the  rare  opportunity  of  seeing  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Dean  in  their 
great  parts  of  Macbeth  and  Lady  Macbeth.  Suspecting  that  her 
ladyship  had  some  unlawful  design  in  thus  lenying  herself  an 
amusement  of  which  I  know  her  to  be  excessively  fond,  and 
preferring  to  spend  the  evening  at  home,  of  which  I  know  she 
is  excessively  tired,  I  ordered  my  faithful  old  servant,  Cuth 
bert,  to  watch — not  his  mistress,  Lady  Vincent,  but  another  in 
dividual " 

Here  old  Cuthbert  interrupted  the  speaker  with  deep  groans. 

Claudia  remained  sitting  in  her  chair,  with  her  face  as  pale 
as  death,  her  teeth  firmly  set,  and  her  eyes  fiercely  fixed  upon 
the  face  of  the  man  who  was  thus  maligning  her  honor. 

He  continued: 

"How  well  my  suspicions  were  founded,  and  how  faith 
fully  old  Cuthbert  has  performed  his  duty,  you  will  soon  see. 
It  appears  that  we  had  but  just  started  on  our  drive,  when 
Cuthbert,  watching  the  motions  of  the  suspected  person,  saw 
him  steal  towards  Lady  Vincent's  apartments.  The  old  man 
glided  after  him,  and,  unseen  himself,  saw  him,  the  miscreant, 
enter  Lady  Vincent's  boudoir." 

"It  is  as  false  as  Satan!  Oh,  you  infamous  wretch,  what 
form  of  punishment  would  be  ignominious  enough  for  you !  " 
cried  Claudia,  springing  to  her  feet,  her  eyes  flaming  with  con 
suming  wrath. 


A   NIGHT   OF   HOEEOE.  231 

But  the  viscount  approached  and  laid  his  hand  upon  her 
shoulder,  and  forced  her  down  into  her  seat  again. 

And  Claudia,  too  proud  to  resist,  where  resistance  would  be 
but  a  vain,  unseemly  struggle,  dropped  into  her  chair  and  sat 
perfectly  still — a  marble  statue,  with  eyes  of  flame. 

The  viscount,  with  fiendish  coolness,    continued: 

"  Cuthbert  watched  arid  listened  on  the  outside  of  the  door 
for  some  time,  and  then,  thinking  that  the  intruder  had  no  in 
tention  of  leaving  the  room,  he  went  and  wrote  a  note,  and 
sent  it  by  one  of  the  grooms,  mounted  on  a  swift  horse,  to  me. 
Ladies,  you  both  saw  the  boy  enter  the  theater  and  hand  me  this 
note.  Your  interest  was  aroused,  but  I  only  told  you  that  I 
was  summoned  in  haste  to  my  lady's  apartments,  and  begged 
you  to  come  with  me " 

"And  I  thought  her  ladyship  was  perhaps  ill,  and  needed 
experienced  help,  or  I  should  certainly  not  have  followed  your 
lordship  into  this  room,"  said  Mrs.  MacDonald,  who,  however, 
made  no  motion  to  withdraw. 

Mrs.  Dugald's  insulting  laugh  rang  through  the  room. 

"I  beg  pardon,  madam;  I  know  this  is  not  a  pleasant  sceno 
for  a  lady  to  take  part  in,  but  I  needed  witnesses,  and  neces 
sity  has  no  law.  If  you  will  permit  me,  I  will  read  the  note 
I  received,"  said  the  viscount,  with  a  diabolical  sneer,  as  he  un 
folded  the  paper.  He  read  as  follows: 

" '  It  is  a'  as  your  lairdship  suspicioned.  If  your  lairdship  will 
come  your  ways  hame  at  ance,  you  will  find  the  sinful  pair  in 
me  leddy's  boudoir.'" 

The  note  had  neither  name  nor  date. 

"  You  know,"  pursued  Lord  Vincent,  "  that  we  hurried  home ; 
you  saw  me  speak  aside  with  Cuthbert  in  the  hall ;  in  that  short 
interview  he  informed  me  that  he  had  remained  upon  the 
watch,  and  that  the  villain  had  not  yet  left  Lady  Vincent'3 
apartments ;  that  he  was  still  within  them ! " 

"  Oh,  Cuthbert !  I  believed  you  to  be  an  honest  old  man !  It 
is  awful  to  find  you  in  league  with  these  wretches ! "  exclaimed 
Claudia,  in  sorrowful  indignation. 

"  Ou,  me  leddy !  I'd  rather  these  auld  limbs  o'  mine  had  been 
streaket  in  death,  ere  I  had  to  use  them  im  siccan  uncanny 
wark !  But  the  Lord's  will  be  dune !  "  groaned  the  old  man,  in 
such  sincere  grief  that  Claudia  was  thoroughly  perplexed. 


232         SELF-RAISED;  OB,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

And  all  this  time  the  viscount  was  continuing  his  cool,  devil* 
ish  monologue. 

"It  was  for  this  reason,  ladies,  that  I  burst  open  the  dooi 
and  called  you  in;  and  it  was  to  prevent  the  escape  of  the  fel 
low  that  I  placed  Cuthbert  on  guard  at  the  door.  Now,  my  lady, 
that  you  understand  the  cause  of  the  '  violence '  of  which  you 
just  now  complained,  you  will  please  to  permit  me  to  search 
the  room.  You  cannot  complain  that  I  have  acted  with  un 
seemly  haste.  I  have  proceeded  with  great  deliberation.  In 
fact,  your  accomplice  has  had  abundant  time  to  escape,  if  he  had 
the  means." 

"  Lord  Vincent,  these  outrages  shall  cost  you  your  life ! " 
exclaimed  Claudia,  in  the  low,  deep,  stern  key  of  concentrated 
passion. 

"  All  in  good  time,  my  lady,"  sneered  the  viscount,  commenc 
ing  the  humiliating  search.  He  looked  in  the  recess  of  the 
bay  window;  peeped  behind  curtains;  opened  closets;  and 
finally  drew  a  large  easy-chair  from  the  corner  of  the  room. 

"Pray,  whom  do  you  expect  to  find  concealed  in  my  apart 
ment,  my  lord? "  demanded  Claudia,  white  with  rage. 

"  My  respectable  valet,  the  good  Mr.  Frisbie.  And  here  he 
is ! "  replied  the  viscount  sarcastically. 

And  to  Claudia's  horror  and  amazement  he  drew  the  trem 
bling  wretch  from  his  concealment  and  hurled  him  into  the  cen 
ter  of  the  room,  where  he  stood  with  dangling  arms  and  bend 
ing  legs,  pale  and  quaking,  but  whether  with  real  or  assumed 
fear  Cluudia  could  not  tell. 

"  How  came  this  fellow  in  my  room  ?  "  she  demanded,  in  con 
sternation. 

"Aye,  sure  enough!  how  did  he  come  here?"  sneered  Lord 
Vincent. 

Mrs.  Dugald  laughed. 

Mrs.  MacDonald  raised  both  her  hands  in  horror. 

"  Come !  perhaps  he'll  tell  us  why  he  came  here !  Confess, 
you  scoundrel !  Say  what  brought  you  here !  "  exclaimed  the 
viscount,  suddenly  changing  his  tone  from  cool  irony  to  burn 
ing  rage,  as  he  seized  and  shook  his  valet. 

"  Oh,  my  lord,  I  will !  I  will !  only  let  go  my  collar !  "  gasped 
the  man,  shaking  or  affecting  to  shake. 

"Confess,  then,  you  rascal!    What  brought  you  here?" 

"Oh,  my  lord,  mercy!  mercy!    I  will  confess!  I  willl" 

"Do  it,  then,  you  villain  1" 


A-NIGHT  OF  HOKROR  233 

*Oh,  my  lord,  I — I  come — at — at  my  lady's  invitation,  my 
lord!" 

"You  came  at  Lady  Vincent's  invitation?"  crie^  trie  vis 
count,  shaking  the  speaker. 
,    "  Y-y-yes,  my  lord !  "  stammered  the  valet. 

"  You — cam^ — at  my  invitation  ? "  demanded  Lady  Vincent 
haughtily,  fixing  her  eyes  of  fire  on  the  creature's  face. 

"  Yes,  my  lady,  you  know  I  did !  It  is  no  use  for  us  to  deny 
it  now !  Ah,  my  lady,  I  always  warned  you  that  we  should  be 
found  out,  and  now  sure  enough  we  are ! "  replied  Frisbie. 

Claudia  clasped  her  hands  and  raised  her  eyes  to  Heaven 
with  the  look  of  one  who  would  have  called  down  fire  upon  the 
heads  of  these  fiends  in  human  form. 

Lord  Vincent  continued  to  question  his  valet. 

"  Does  Lady  Vincent  make  a  practice  of  inviting  you  to  her 
apartments  ?  " 

"Y-y-yes,  my  lord!" 

"How  of  ten?" 

"  Wh-wh- whenever  your  lordship's  absence  seems  to  make  it 
safe." 

"  Then  I  am  to  understand  that  you  are  a  favored  suitor  of 
Lady  Vincent's?" 

"  Yes,  yes,  my  lord !  Oh,  my  lord,  I  know  I  have  done  very 
wrong.  I  know  I- " 

"Do  you  know  that  you  deserve  death,  sir?"  demanded  the 
viscount,  in  a  voice  of  thunder. 

"  Oh,  my  lord,  mercy !  mercy !  I  know  I  am  a  great  sinner ! 
I  could  kill  myself  for  it,  if  it  wasn't  for  fear  of  losing  my  soul ! 
All  I  can  do  now  is  to  repent  and  confess!  I  do  repent  from 
the  bottom  of  my  heart;  and  I  will  confess  everything!  Yes, 
I  will  tell  your  lordship  all  about  it  and  throw  myself  on  your 
lordship's  mercy ! "  cried  this  remorseless  villain. 

"  Enough !  I  wish  to  hear  no  more  from  you  just  at  present. 
Your  confession  would  be  scarcely  fit  for  the  ears  of  these 
ladies.  Your  testimony  must  be  reserved  for  a  future  occasion," 
said  the  viscount.  And  then  turning  to  Claudia  with  the  coolest 
and  most  insulting  hauteur,  he  said: 

"  And  now !  what  have  you  to  say  to  all  this,  my  lady  ? " 

Claudia  advanced  into  the  center  of  the  room;  her  step  was 
firm;  her  head  erect;  her  cheeks  burning;  her  eyes  blazing; 
her  whole  form  dilated  and  lifted  to  grandeur ;  she  looked  a  very 
Nemesis — a  very  Goddess  of  Retributive  Justice,  as  throwing, 


234        SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHB. 

her  consuming  glance  around  upon  the  group,  who  fairly 
quailed  before  her,  she  said: 

"  What  have  '  I  to  say  to  all  this '  ?  I  say,  Lord  Vincent,  be 
assured  that  you  shall  die  for  these  insults !  I  say  that  I  know 
this  to  be  a  foul  conspiracy  against  my  honor,  and  as  feeble 
as  it  is  foul!  Oh,  reptiles!  base,  venomous  reptiles!  Do  you 
really  suppose  that  the  honor  of  a  pure  woman  is  of  such  a 
weak  and  sickly  nature  as  to  be  destroyed  by  the  poison  of  your 
calumnies?  Fools!  I  shall  leave  this  place  for  London  to 
morrow!  I  shall  go  at  once  to  the  American  Legation  and  see 
our  American  minister,  who  is  an  old  friend  of  my  father.  I 
will  tell  him  all  that  has  taken  place  and  come  to  my  knowledge, 
since  I  have  lived  under  this  accursed  and  polluted  roof.  I  will 
advise  with  him  as  to  the  best  measures  to  be  taken  for  the  dis 
covery  of  my  poor  old  servant,  Katie,  and  for  the  unmasking 
and  prosecuting  to  conviction  the  wretches  who  have  conspired 
against  my  honor.  What !  I  am  the  daughter  of  Randolph  Mer 
lin!  The  blood  of  an  Indian  king,  who  never  spared  a  foe, 
burns  along  my  veins!  Take  heed — beware — escape  while 
you  may!  My  lord,  your  fate  shall  find  you,  even  though 
it  follow  you  to  the  farthest  ends  of  the  earth!  You  are 
warned!  And  now,  as  a  few  moments  since,  my  request  that 
you  would  withdraw  your  accomplices  from  the  room  was  dis 
regarded,  I  must  retire  to  my  chamber." 

And  with  the  air  and  manner  of  an  outraged  queen,  Claudia 
left  the  boudoir. 

"Friends,"  said  Lord  Vincent,  turning  to  his  female  com 
panions,  "  your  testimony  will  be  hereafter  required  in  this 
case.  I  beg  you,  therefore,  in  the  name  of  justice,  to  make  a 
mental  note  of  what  you  have  seen  and  heard  to-night.  Re 
member  Lady  Vincent's  strange  conduct  in  declining  to  accom 
pany  us  to  the  theater  and  resolving  to  stay  at  home;  remem 
ber  the  note  that  was  brought  me  in  my  box  and  our  unexpected 
return  home;  remember  particularly  that  the  door  leading  into 
Lady  Vincent's  apartments  was  fastened  on  the  inside,  and  that 
I  had  to  break  it  open;  remember  also  that  we  found  the 
wretch,  Frisbie,  concealed  in  the  room,  and  that  he  made  a  full 
confession." 

"  It  is  not  likely  that  we  shall  forget  it,  my  lord ! "  said  Mrs. 
MacDonald  gravely. 

"  No !  what  horror !  "  cried  Mrs.  Dugald. 

"  And  now,  ladies,  I  will  no  longer  detain  you  from  your  neces 


A   NIGHT   OF  HOKROR.  235 

sary  rest,"  said  the  viscount,  ringing  the  bell,  which  the  house 
keeper,  looking  amazed,  scandalized,  and  full  of  curiosity,  an 
swered. 

"  Murdock,  show  this  lady,  Mrs.  MacDonald,  to  the  blue  suite 
of  rooms,  and  place  yourself  at  her  service.  Madam,  pray  order 
any  refreshments  you  may  require.  Good-night,  madam.  Sis 
ter,  good-night ! " 

"Good-night!  good-night,  my  lord!  I  shall  pray  that  you 
shall  be  able  to  bear  this  great  misfortune  with  the  fortitude 
becoming  a  man,"  said  Mrs.  MacDonald. 

"  Good-night,  brother !  "  said  Mrs.  Dugald. 

When  the  "  ladies,"  attended  by  the  housekeeper,  had  left  the 
room  and  were  quite  out  of  hearing,  Lord  Vincent  turned  to 
his  accomplice  and  whispered: 

"You  did  that  capitally,  Frisbie.  You  would  make  an  ex 
cellent  actor.  Anyone  on  earth,  looking  at  you  this  evening  and 
not  knowing  the  truth,  would  have  thought  you  were  dying  of 
mortification  and  terror — you  shook  and  faltered  so  naturally." 

u  Oh,  my  lord !  "  returned  the  valet,  in  modest  deprecation  of 
this  praise. 

"  You  did ;  but  now  I  wish  you  to  tell  me.  How  did  you 
manage  to  awaken  the  suspicions  of  old  Cuthbert?  How  did 
you  manage  to  draw  his  eyes  upon  you — and  draw  him  on 
to  watch  you  until  you  entered  the  room  without  seeming  to 
know  that  you  were  watched  ? " 

"  I  tell  you,  my  lord,  that  part  of  my  task  was  hard.  But  I 
contrived  to  do  it  by  pretending  to  watch  him,  and  affecting 
to  dodge  out  of  sight  every  time  he  saw  me.  This  excited  his 
curiosity,  and  caused  him  to  conceal  himself  in  order  to  watch 
me.  When  I  knew  that  he  had  done  this,  I  began  to  creep  to 
wards  my  lady's  apartments,  knowing  full  well  that  he  was 
stealing  after  me." 

"  But  how  did  you  contrive  to  get  into  the  boudoir  ? " 

"  I  wore  list  slippers,  and  your  lordship  knows  that  the  thick 
carpets  return  no  echo  to  the  footstep,  and  that  the  doors  open 
and  shut  silently.  First  I  peeped  through  the  keyhole,  and  I 
saw  that  her  ladyship  was  sitting  within  the  curtained  recess 
of  the  bay  window,  looking  out  at  sea,  her  attention  being  ab 
sorbed  there,  and  her  back  being  towards  the  door.  So  I  just 
softly  opened  the  door,  entered  the  room,  closing  it  after  me, 
and  concealed  myself  behind  your  lordship's  own  great  easy- 
chair,  that  I  knew  was  never  drawn  from  its  dark  corner." 


236        SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

"  For  the  good  reason  that  the  owner  is  never  there  to  occupj 
it,"  sneered  the  viscount. 

"Just  so,  my  lord.  And  now  I  have  told  your  lordship  ex 
actly  how  I  managed  matters,  so  as  to  make  old  Cuthbert  our 
accomplice  without  his  ever  suspecting  it." 

"  Old  Cuthbert  must  think  you  a  grand  rascal." 

"  He  does  me  great  honor,  your  lordship." 

"  There !  now  go  about  your  business,  Frisbie.  Of  course 
you  must  get  away  from  here  by  the  morning's  first  light.  It 
must  be  supposed  that  you  have  been  kicked  out.  Remain  in 
the  neighborhood  of  Banff.  You  will  be  wanted  as  a  witness." 

"  Yes,  my  lord ;  but  in  the  meantime — I  have  saved  nothing. 
I  have  no  means." 

"  Oh,  you  mercenary  rascal !  You  have  saved  your  neck 
from  the  gallows,  if  you  have  saved  nothing  else.  But  here  are 
ten  pounds  for  present  needs;  and  I  will  take  care  not  to  see 
you  want  for  the  future.  Now  be  off  with  you.  Your  longer 
stay  will  excite  surprise  and  conjecture." 

"  Your  lordship  is  too  good ! "  said  the  caitiff,  bowing  himself 
out. 

Lord  Vincent  soon  after  left  the  boudoir  and  went  down 
stairs.  In  the  hall  he  found  old  Cuthbert  up  and  waiting. 

"You  here  yet,  Cuthbert?    Why  don't  you  go  to  bed?" 

"  Ou,  me  laird,  I  couldna  sleep  wi'  the  thought  o'  siccan 
dishonor  befa'ing  the  house ! "  groaned  the  old  man. 

"  The  dishonor  attaches  but  to  one  person,  and  the  house 
will  be  rid  of  it  when  she  is  cast  forth,"  said  the  viscount. 

"  Ou,  me  laird !  for  pity,  dinna  do  that !  Send  her  ways  back 
to  her  ain  countrie.  She's  but  a  wee  bit  lassie  after  a' !  And 
she's  awa'  fra  fayther  and  mither,  and  a'  her  folk!  And  'deed 
I  canna  bring  mysel'  to  think,  that  ill  o'  her,  neither !  'deed  no !  " 

"  Cuthbert,  are  you  out  of  your  senses  ?  What  are  you  talk 
ing  about?  The  man  was  found  .concealed  in  her  room,  and 
being  discovered,  confessed  his  guilt,"  said  Lord  Vincent. 

"Aye,  me  laird,  but  she  denied  all  knowledge  of  him;  and 
she  looked  grand  wi'  the  majesty  of  truth,  me  laird.  Folk 
dinna  look  that  way  when  they're  leeing.  And  the  lad  Frisbie 
looked  just  as  if  he  were  leeing.  Folk  dinna  look  as  he  looked 
when  they're  telling  the  truth." 

"  Cuthbert,  you  are  an  old  dolt !  We  do  not  depend  on  Fris- 
bie's  word,  exclusively.  We  have  the  fact  of  finding  him  in 
the  room." 


A   NIGHT   OF   HOREOE.  237 

u  I  misdoubt  lie  e'en  just  hid  himsel'  in  there  for  the  purpose 
of  robbery,  unbeknownst  to  the  leddy.  And  then  cast  the  blame 
on  her  to  help  to  shield  himsel',  the  villain ! " 

"  Cuthbert,  you  are  in  your  dotage ! "  exclaimed  the  viscount 
angrily. 

"It  may  be  sae,  my  laird;  but  I  canna  think  shame  o'  the 
leddy !  Nay,  I  canna  1  Howbeit !  richt  or  wrang,  the  shame  has 
come  till  her.  !?ae,  me  laird,  in  marcy  take  an  auld  man's 
counsel,  and  e'en,  just  gie  her  her  dower,  and  send  her  her  ways 
to  her  feyther's  house." 

"  Cuthbert,  your  brabi  is  softening.  Hark  ye!  Get  yourself 
off  to  bed." 

"  Aye,  me  laird,"  said  the  old  man  meekly,  as  he  withdrew  to 
his  den;  "but  I  canna  think  sin  o'  the  leddy!  nay,  nay,  I 
canna ! " 

When  all  the  house  was  still  Lord  Vincent  stole  to  the  apart 
ments  of  Mrs.  Dugald. 

"  Oh !  I  have  been  waiting  for  you  so  long  and  so  impa 
tiently,"  she  said,  as  she  placed  him  a  chair  at  her  dressing- 
room  fireside. 

"  I  came  as  soon  as  all  was  quiet.  Oh,  Faustina,  how  I  am 
sinking  my  soul  in  sin  and  infamy  for  your  sake ! "  exclaimed 
Lord  Vincent,  as  a  momentary  qualm  of  shame  sickened  his 
heart. 

"  Do  you  repent  it,  then  1 "  she  inquired,  with  a  glance  that 
brought  him  to  her  feet,  a  slave  once  more,  "  do  you  repent  it  I  " 

"N"o,  my  angel,  no!  though  we  go  to  perdition,  we  go  to 
gether!  And  it  is  joy  and  glory  to  lose  myself  for  you — for 
you ! "  he  exclaimed  passionately,  and  attempting  to  embrace 
her. 

"Ha!  stop!  beware!  You  are  not  free  yet — nor  am  I  your 
wife ! "  exclaimed  the  artful  woman,  withdrawing  herself  from 
his  advances. 

"  But  I  shall  be  free  soon,  and  you  shall  be  my  wife.  You 
know  it,  Faustina.  You  know  that  I  am  your  slave.  You  can  do 
with  me  as  you  please.  Then  why  be  so  cruel  as  to  refuse  me 
even  one  kiss  1 " 

"  That  I  may  have  nothing  to  reproach  myself  with  in  after 
time — when  I  shall  be  Lady  Vincent.  That  you  may  not  have 
to  blush  for  your  second  viscountess,  as  you  have  had  to  blush 
for  your  first." 

u  Oh,  Faustina,  how  coldly  cruel  and  calculating  you  some- 


238  8ELF-KAISED  '   OR,    PROM   THE   DEPTHS. 

times  seem  to  me!    Why  do  I  love  you  so  insanely  that  you 
possess  my  very  soul  ?    Why  is  it,  beautiful  witch  ? " 

"  Because  I  love  you  so  much,  mon  ami." 

"  You  do,  you  do !    You  really  love  me,  'Tina  ? " 

"  Oh,  I  do !    You  know  I  do !  more  than  life !  " 

"  Then  let  Satan  have  me  after  death !  I  do  not  care !  "  re 
plied  this  desperate  fool. 

"  Hush !  this  is  a  dangerous  topic.  It  makes  me  reel.  Give 
me  a  glass  of  water,  Malcolm,  and  let  us  talk  of  something 
else,"  said  the  wily  siren. 

When  she  had  drunk  the  water  the  viscount  brought  her  she 
said: 

"There  is  a  question  I  have  been  dying  to  ask  you  all  day, 
but  I  could  get  no  good  chance  without  the  risk  of  being  over 
heard — and  that  would  have  been  ruin." 

"What  is  the  question,  Faustina?" 

The  woman  turned  so  deadly  white  that  her  black  eyes 
gleamed  like  great  balls  of  jet  from  a  face  of  stone,  as  sinking 
her  voice  to  the  lowest  key,  she  said: 

"  What  have  you  done  with  it  ?  " 

"With  what,  Faustina?" 

"  With  the  dead  body  of  the  black  woman  ? " 

The  viscount  slowly  lowered  his  finger  and  significantly 
pointed  downward. 

"  Down  there  ? "  whispered  Faustina. 

The  viscount  nodded. 

"Where  we  left  it?" 

"Yes." 

"  Oh,  but  that  is  not  safe.  There  is  suspicion.  Suppose 
there  should  be  a  search ;  suppose  there  should  be  a  discovery  ?  " 
cried  the  woman  in  alarm.  For  she,  who  was  not  afraid  of 
committing  the  worst  crimes,  was  terribly  afraid  of  meeting 
their  consequences. 

"Be  at  ease.  I  shall  not  leave  her  there  long;  the  sea  is 
near  at  hand,"  whispered  the  viscount. 

"  Yes,  you  may  cast  her  into  the  sea ;  but  the  sea  sometimes 
casts  back  its  dead — especially  when  they  have  been  murdered," 
shuddered  the  woman. 

"  The  sea  will  not  cast  her  back,"  said  the  viscount  signifi 
cantly. 

"Oh,  you  will  tie  a  heavy  weight  to  her  body!  But  when 
will  you  do  it  ?  Oh,  I  am  in  agony,  until  that  is  removed ! n 


A    NIGHT    OF   HORROR.  239 

"  Be  still !  I  hope  to  have  an  opportunity  of  removing  it  to 
night." 

"But  you  cannot  do  it  alone.  Let  me  help  you.  I  would 
Bather  help  you." 

"  No,  I  can  and  will  do  it  without  your  help.  Do  you  think, 
my  angel,  that  I  would  permit  you  to  engage  in  such  dreadful 
work?" 

"  I  helped  you  to  stop  her  breath,"  said  the  woman  hoarsely. 

"  That  was  a  work  of  necessity  that  presented  itself  sud 
denly  before  us.  This  is  different." 

"But  I  would  rather  help.  I  would  rather  be  present.  I 
would  rather  see,  for  then  I  should  know  to  a  certainty  that 
it  was  gone,"  she  insisted. 

"  Can  you  not  trust  me  ?  " 

"No,  no,  I  cannot  trust  anyone  when  my  head  is  in  danger 
of  the  guillotine." 

"  I  tell  you  there  are  no  guillotines  in  England." 

"The  other  thing,  then,  which  is  worse,  because  it  is  more 
disgraceful.  Hanging  by  the  neck  until  one  is  dead!  Ugh! 
No,  I  cannot  trust  you,  Malcolm,  where  so  much  is  at  stake," 
said  the  woman,  with  a  terrible  shudder. 

"  You  have  no  confidence  in  me  then  ?  And  yet  you  say  you 
love  me.  Why,  confidence  is  the  very  soul  of  love." 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  love  you,  Malcolm.  I  love  you  more  than  words 
can  tell.  And  it  is  for  your  safety  as  well  as  for  my  own  that 
I  am  so  cautious.  And  I  have  confidence  in  you,  Malcolm. 
Only,  being  alone,  you  may  not  be  able  to  do  the  work  effec 
tually.  I  must  help  you.  The  house  is  all  still;  everybody  has 
retired;  can  we  not  go  now  and  remove  it?" 

"  No,  not  now ;  there  is  a  vessel  lying  at  anchor  close  under 
the  shore.  We  must  wait  until  she  moves  off." 

"  And  the  vessel  may  lay  there  a  whole  week.  And  in  the 
meantime  what  becomes  of  the  body  ? "  exclaimed  Faustina, 
her  eyes  wild  with  apprehension. 

"  I  am  assured  by  those  who  know,  that  the  vessel  will  sail 
with  the  first  tide  to-morrow  morning.  So  be  tranquil.  And 
now,  Faustina,  there  is  another  subject  which  we  must  settle 
to-night.  Lady  Vincent  leaves  the  castle  early  to-morrow  morn 
ing.  That  is  necessary;  and  though  it  cleaves  my  heart  in  two 
to  part  with  you,  I  must  do  it  for  a  season.  The  world  must 
have  no  cause  to  talk  of  you  and  me,  Faustina;  of  you,  es 
pecially,  for  of  you  it  would  be  the  most  likely  to  talk." 


240        SELF-RAISED;  OB,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

"  Why  of  me  ?  "  inquired  the  ex-opera  singer  testily. 

"  Because,  my  dearest,  you  have  more  beauty  and  genius  and 
fame  than  the  world  ever  forgives  in  a  woman,"  answered  the 
viscount  artfully. 

"  Oh ! "  said  the  siren,  with  an  air  of  arch  incredulity. 

"And  now,  Faustina,  it  shall  be  for  you  to  decide.  Shall 
you  remain  here,  with  Mrs.  MacDonald  for  a  companion  and 
chaperon,  while  I  go  to  London  to  take  the  preliminary  steps 
towards  the  divorce;  or  shall  you  go  to  Brighton  or  Tor 
quay,  or  any  other  watering-place  on  the  South  Coast  ? " 

Mrs.  Dugald  was  very  astute;  she  answered  promptly: 

"  Oh,  I  will  remain  here.  And  then  you  will  not  be  jealous. 
There  is  no  one  here  to  admire  me  except  Mrs.  MacDonald  and 
old  Cuthbert  and  Murdock." 

"  Bless  you !  Bless  you !  I  do  believe  you  lo\.  e  me  because 
you  anticipate  my  wishes  so  readily,"  said  this  devotee  fer 
vently. 

"  And  now  you  must  go,  and  say  good-night !  It  is  two  o'clock 
in  the  morning  and  I  am  tired  to  death.  And  mind  about  that 
below,  you  know.  And  the  first  safe  opportunity  you  have, 
come  to  me  to  help  you  remove  it.  Mind ! "  said  Faustina, 
raising  her  finger. 

"I  will  mind.  Good-night!  What,  no  kiss,  even  for  good 
night  ? "  he  said,  as  she  recoiled  from  his  offered  salute. 

"No.  I  reserve  my  kisses  for  my  husband,"  she  answered 
archly.  Thus  this  evil  woman,  ste«ped  to  the  lips  in  sin,  af 
fected  the  prude  with  the  man  she  wished  to  secure.  And  while 
making  and  receiving  the  most  ardent  protestations  of  love, 
disallowed  the  very  slightest  caress. 

The  viscount,  baffled  and  dissatisfied,  but  more  determined 
than  ever  to  marry  this  tantalizing  beauty,  left  the  room  and 
retired  to  his  own  chamber. 

Mr.  Frisbie's  work  was  over  there,  and  Mr.  Frisbie  himself 
was  absent,  of  course. 


THE   CASTLE  VAULli 
CHAPTER  XXXT. 

THE  CASTLE  VAULT. 

It  was  more  dark  and  lone,  that  vault, 

Than  the  worst  dungeon  cell, 
A  hermit  built  it  for  his  fault, 

In  penitence  to  dwell: 
This  den,  which  chilling  every  sense 

Of  feeling,  hearing,  sight, 
Was  called  the  Vault  of  Penitence, 

Excluding  air  and  light. 
Twas  by  an  ancient  prelate  made 
The  place  of  burial  for  such  dead 
As  having  died  in  mortal  sin 
Might  not  be  laid  the  church  within, 
'Twas  next  a  place  of  punishment; 
Where  if  so  loud  a  shriek  were  sent, 

AB  reached  the  upper  air, 
The  hearers  blessed  themselves  and  said 
The  spirits  of  the  sinful  dead 

Bemoaned  their  torments  there. 

— Scott. 

There  was  opening  from  Lord  Vincent's  dressing  room  a 
bay  window,  having  a  balcony  on  the  outside,  overhanging  the 
sea.  The  viscount  took  a  night  telescope,  opened  the  window, 
and  stepped  out  upon  the  balcony.  He  adjusted  the  glass  and 
swept  the  coast.  Nothing  was  to  be  seen  but  the  solitary  ves 
sel  that  lay  at  anchor  almost  under  the  castle  walls. 

"  The  coast  ia  clear,"  said  the  viscount  to  himself,  as  he  re- 
entered  the  room  and  replaced  the  telescope. 

Then  wrapping  himself  in  a  large  maud  and  pulling  a  slouched 
hat  over  his  eyes,  he  left  the  room,  descended  the  stairs  and 
went  out. 

Tie  took  the  way  down  to  the  sands  at  the  extreme  base  of 
the  promontory.  The  path  that  led  down  the  side  of  the  cliff 
was  steep,  slippery,  and  very  dangerous  even  at  noonday.  And 
this  was  one  of  the  darkest  hours  of  the  night  that  precedes  the 
dawn.  And  the  path  was  more  perilous  than  ever.  But  the 
viscount  was  Highland-bred,  and  his  step  was  as  sure  on  the 
steep  mountain  edge  as  on  the  level  plain.  He  reached  the 
foot  of  the  precipice  in  safety  and  stood  upon  the  sands  and 
drew  from  his  pocket  a  small  whistle,  which  he  placed  to  his 
lips  and  blew  a  shrill  call. 

It  was  answered  from  the  vessel  at  anchor.  And  soon  a  boat 
was  put  off  from  her  side,  and  rowed  swiftly  to  the  shore. 


242        SELF-RAISED;  OR,  tfE_  '-LHE  DEPTHS. 

"  Is  that  you,  Costo  ? "  inquired  the  viscount  of  the  man  who 
jumped  ashore. 

"  No,  senor ;  it  is  Paolo." 

"The  mate?" 

"  Yes,  senor." 

"Where  is  Costo?" 

"  On  board  the  vessel,  senor." 

"  What  have  you  brought  this  time  ? n 

"  Cuban  tobacco,  Jamaica  spirits,  and  some  rich  West  Indian 
fabrics  for  ladies'  dresses.  A  cask  of  spirits  and  a  box  of  cigara 
Qave  gone  up  to  the  castle.  Old  Mr.  Cuthbert  took  them  in." 

"  All  right ;  but  I  have  some  business  now  at  hand  that  Cuth- 
*tert  must  know  nothing  about.  For  instance,  he  is  in  ignor 
ance,  and  must  remain  in  ignorance,  of  my  visit  to  the  beach 
w>-night." 

"  We  can  be  silent  as  the  grave,  senor." 

"  Have  you  had  any  trouble  from  the  coastguard  ? " 

•'No,  senor;  how  could  we?  Is  not  your  excellency  the  pro 
tector  of  the  poor  ? " 

'ihe  viscount  laughed. 

*•  It  is  true,"  he  said,  "  that  the  guards  at  the  nearest  station 
are  in  my  power,  and  know  better  than  to  pry  too  closely  into 
the  concerns  of  any  vessels  that  run  into  my  castle  cove;  but 
DC?  md  their  domain  I  cannot  protect  you;  so  be  cautious." 

"  We  are  cautious,  senor.  So  cautious  that  we  shall  sail  with 
the  first  tide." 

"For  Havana?" 

"  For  Havana,  senor." 

"  Well,  now  I  wish  you  to  take  me  to  the  vessel.  I  must 
see  the  captain." 

"  Surely,  senor,"  said  the  obsequious  mate,  as  the  viscount 
stepped  into  the  boat. 

"Give  way,  men!  Back  to  the-brigantine,"  said  the  mate. 
And  the  men  laid  themselves  to  their  oars,  and  soon  reached  the 
vessel's  side. 

Lord  Vincent  was  received  with  the  greatest  respect  by  the 
captain,  who  came  obsequiously  to  the  starboard  gangway  to 
meet  him. 

"  Let  us  go  into  your  cabin  at  once,  Costo;  I  have  business  to 
discuss  with  you,"  said  the  viscount. 

"  Surely,  sefior,"  replied  the  captain,  leading  the  way  down 
to  a  small,  snug  cabin. 


THE   CASTLE   VAULT.  243 

It  was  flanked  each  side  by  two  comfortable  berths,  and  fur 
nished  with  a  buffet  at  one  end  and  a  round  table  and  two  chairs 
in  the  center. 

"  Will  the  senor  deign  to  seat  himself  ? "  said  the  captain, 
offering  one  of  these  chairs  to  the  visitor  and  taking  the  other 
himself. 

There  were  decanters  of  spirits,  glasses  cigars,  pipes,  and 
tobacco  on  the  table. 

"  Will  the  senor  deign  to  taste  this  rum,  which  is  of  fine 
quality,  and  try  one  of  these  cigars,  which  are  at  once  so  strong 
and  so  delicate  of  aroma  ? " 

For  an  answer  the  viscount  poured  out  a  liberal  portion  of 
the  spirits  and  quaffed  it  almost  at  a  draught,  and  then  lighted 
a  cigar  and  commenced  smoking.  He  smoked  away  for  a  few 
minutes,  during  which  Costo  waited  respectfully  for  him  to 
open  communications. 

At  length  the  viscount  spoke: 

"  Costo,  in  your  island  of  Cuba  able-bodied  men  and  women 
of  the  negro  race  command  good  prices,  do  they  not  ? " 

"Yes,  senor — great  prices,  since  your  illustrious  statesmen 
have  abolished  the  African  slave-trade  over  all  the  ocean." 

"  For  instance,  how  much  would  a  fine  young  man,  of  say~ 
twenty-one  years  of  age,  bring?" 

"  From  two  to  five  thousand  dollars,  according  to  his  health, 
good  looks,  and  accomplishments.  I  have  known  a  likely  boy 
of  fourteen  to  sell  for  three  thousand  dollars.  He  is  now  one  of 
the  best  cooks  on  the  island." 

"  Humph !  then  I  should  say  the  one  I  speak  of  would  bring 
near  the  highest  price  you  have  named.  How  much  would  a 
healthy,  handsome  girl  of  eighteen  bring  ? " 

"  Mulatress  or  quadroon  ?  " 

"  Oh,  neither.  She  is  a  negress,  black  as  the  blackest  satin, 
but  with  a  skin  as  smooth  and  soft — a  Venus  carved  in  jet." 

"From  a  thousand  to  two  thousand  dollars,  perhaps,  as  she 
is  a  negress ;  but  if  she  were  a  mulatress  she  would  bring  more, 
or  if  a  quadroon  most  of  all — other  things  being  equal;" 

"  And  how  much  would  a  stout,  healthy,  strong-minded  woman 
of  fifty  bring?" 

"  That  depends  upon  other  circumstances,  senor.  If,  to 
gether  with  her  health  and  intelligence,  she  should  be  a  good 
housekeeper  and  nurse,  as  women  of  her  age  are  apt  to  be,  why, 
then  she  might  bring  from  nine  to  twelve  hundred  dollars." 


244         SELF-EAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

"Well,  Costo,  I  have  three  such  negroes  as  I  have  just  eta 
scribed  to  dispose  of." 

"Yes,  senor?  But  you  are  English  and  this  is  England!" 
exclaimed  the  buccaneer  in  amazement. 

"  Scotch — and  Scotland.  But,  no  matter — it  amounts  to  the 
same  thing.  Will  you  buy  my  negroes  at  a  bargain  ?  " 

"Pardon,  senar,  but  I  do  not  understand.  I  thought  there 
was  no  buying  and  selling  of  slaves  in  England." 

"  Of  course  there  is  not.  And  there  is  no  free  trade  in  Eng 
land.  Both  negro-trading  and  smuggling  are  illegal.  Yet,  aa 
you  manage  to  drive  a  pretty  profitable  business  in  the  latter, 
you  might  speculate  a  little  in  the  former.  Eh  ?  " 

"  But,  pardon,  senor.    I  am  not  in  the  slave-trade." 

"What  of  that?  When  such  a  splendid  opportunity  of  do 
ing  a  fine  stroke  of  business  offers,  you  might  step  aside  from 
your  regular  routine  of  trade  to  make  a  considerable  sum  of 
money,  might  you  not  ?  " 

"If  the  senor  would  condescend  to  explain  himself  I  might 
understand  the  affair  he  proposes  to  me.  I  do  not  yet  compre 
hend  how  he  can  have  slaves  to  sell  in  England,"  said  the  cap 
tain  respectfully. 

"  Perhaps  another  would  not  be  able  to  understand  how  you 
manage  to  import  articles  upon  which  heavy  duty  is  laid,  free 
of  all  duty  whatever  ? "  said  the  viscount,  indulging  in  a  sneer. 

"  If  the  senor  would  deign  to  make  his  meaning  clear  ? " 

"Well,  the  senor  will  endeavor  to  do  so.  Though  more  de 
pends  upon  your  perspicacity  than  his  perspicuity.  Can  you 
comprehend  that  when  I  was  on  a  visit  to  the  States  I  married 
a  young  American  lady,  who  owned  a  large  number  of  slaves, 
who,  of  course,  passed  into  my  possession  from  the  marriage 
day?" 

"  Oh,  yes,  senor ;  that  is  easily  understood." 

"  Three  of  these  slaves,  the  three  of  which  I  have  just  spoken, 
being  favorites  of  their  mistress,  attended  her  to  this  country." 

"  And  became  free  from  the  moment  they  touched  English 
ground,  senor;  for  such  is  English  law." 

"We  are  not  talking  of  law — though  I  suppose  there  is  as 
much  law  for  slavery  as  there  is  for  smuggling.  But  the  less 
you  and  I  say  about  law  the  better.  So  just  suppose  we  leave 
law  entirely  out  of  the  argument." 

"With  all  my  heart,  senor;  if  the  senor  desires  it  to  be  left 
out." 


THE   CASTLE   VAULT.  24b 

" '  The  senor '  does.  So  now,  then,  we  shall  get  along  better. 
These  three  negroes  are  at  Castle  Cragg.  At  your  own  estima 
tion,  the  lot  must  be  worth  eight  thousand  dollars — sixteen  hun 
dred  pounds  in  our  money;  now  you  shall  have  them  for  six 
hundred  pounds — that  is,  three  thousand  dollars  of  your  money; 
and  you  will  thereby  make  a  profit  of  one  thousand  pounds,  or 
five  thousand  dollars,  which  is  nearly  two  hundred  per  cent. 
Come,  what  do  you  say  ? " 

"  Senor,  we  are  to  leave  law  out  of  the  argument? " 

"  Of  course." 

"  Then,  if  I  had  these  negroes  on  board  this  vessel,  which 
is  to  sail  with  the  morning  tide,  I  would  give  the  senor  his  price 
for  them." 

"  You  shall  have  them  all  on  board  within  the  hour." 

"Good!  but,  pardon,  senor,  a  thought  strikes  me!" 

"What  is  it?" 

"  Since  these  negroes  are  favorite  servants  of  the  illustrious 
eenora  ? " 

"What  then?" 

"  She  will  not  consent  to  part  with  them." 

"Her  consent  is  as  unnecessary  as  the  sanction  of  the  law. 
It  is  just  because  they  are  favorite  servants — petted,  pampered, 
and  spoiled  servants — that  I  wish  to  part  with  them.  Such  ser 
vants  are  nuisances  in  the  family  circle." 

"  The  senor  is  right,  always  right !  but — shall  we  have  any 
difficulty  with  the  negroes  ? " 

"None  whatever.     You  will  take  them  in  their  beds." 

"Will  they  not  make  an  outcry  and  bring  the  house  upon 
us?" 

"  My  excellent  but  too  cautious  friend,  did  you  never  hear  of 
chloroform  ?  " 

frSurely7  senor." 

"  It  is  one  of  the  greatest  blessings  modern  science  has  con 
ferred  upon  us.  It  not  only  saves  much  pain  in  surgical  opera 
tions,  but  in  other  operations  it  actually  saves  life.  The  ex 
perienced  burglar  now,  when  he  enters  a  house  for  the  purpose 
of  robbery,  instead  of  cutting  the  throat  of  a  wakeful  inmate, 
simply  administers  chloroform,  and  soothes  his  restlessness  so 
perfectly  that  he  falls  into  a  happy  state  of  insensibility,  while 
he,  the  burglar,  pursues  his  calling  undisturbed  and  at  leisure." 

"Well,  senor?" 

"  Well,  don't  you  understand  ?    I  will  conduct  you  and  such 


246        SELF-RAISED;  OB,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

of  your  men  as  you  can  trust  to  the  castle;  admit  you  secretly; 
lead  you  to  the  bedside  of  the  negroes,  who  are  sure  at  this  hour 
to  be  in  a  deep  sleep;  administer  the  chloroform  to  send  them, 
into  a  deeper  one;  and  so  transport  them  to  the  vessel." 

"  And  by  that  time  we  will  be  ready  to  raise  anchor  and  saiL 
And  when  our  sleepers  awake  we  shall  be  safely  on  our  way  to 
Cuba." 

"  Exactly.  But  no  time  is  to  be  lost.  Will  you  go  now  ? " 
inquired  the  viscount,  rising. 

"  Certainly,"  said  the  captain,  and  he  went  on  deck  to  order 
the  boat  manned  to  go  on  shore. 

In  a  few  minutes  it  was  reported  ready,  and  the  captain,  the 
mate,  and  two  sailors  whom  they  supposed  they  could  rely 
upon,  entered  it.  In  a  very  few  minutes  they  reached  the  shore 
and  left  the  boat. 

"  Leave  the  two  sailors  here  with  the  boat ;  the  mate  will  be 
sufficient  for  our  purpose,"  said  the  viscount. 

The  captain  gave  the  necessary  directions  to  the  boatmen. 
Lord  Vincent,  Captain  Costo,  and  Paolo  went  up  the  narrow 
pass  leading  to  the  top  of  the  cliff  and  entered  the  castle  court 
yard. 

"Your  boots  are  heavy;  they  might  awaken  the  household, 
even  at  this  hour  of  its  deepest  sleep;  you  must  put  them  off 
here,"  whispered  the  viscount. 

It  was  no  sooner  said  than  done.  The  men  cast  off  both 
shoes  and  stockings  and  stood  in  their  bare  feet. 

"  We  must  keep  them  dry  to  put  on  again,"  said  the  mate, 
as  he  stuffed  the  stockings  into  the  boots. 

Then,  silent  as  death,  they  stole  into  the  castle  and  glided 
along  the  dark,  deserted  halls  and  up  its  staircases. 

The  viscount  paused  before  the  door  of  Mrs.  Dugald's  bou 
doir,  and  taking  the  maid's  pass-key  from  its  hiding  place, 
softly  unlocked  and  entered  the  room,  beckoning  his  companions 
in  crime  to  follow. 

Silently  he  stole  across  the  room,  drew  aside  the  crimson- 
satin  hangings,  exposed  the  oak-paneled  walls,  and  touched  a 
spring. 

A  secret  door  opened,  revealing  a  narrow  flight  of  stairs. 
Making  a  sign  for  his  companions  to  follow,  he  descended. 

Down  many  narrow  flights  of  stairs,  through  many  winding 
labyrinths,  along  many  dark  passages,  the  sailors  followed  their 
leader,  until  far  down  in  the  deepest  foundations  of  the  castle 


THE   CASTLE   VAULT.  247 

they  reached  a  large,  circular  stone  crypt,  with  many  rusted 
iron  doors  around  it,  leading  into  little  dungeons.  On  one  side 
of  this  horrible  place  was  a  rude  stone  altar  with  an  iron  cruci 
fix.  In  the  center  was  a  block.  It  was  probably  a  vault  which 
in  the  old  and  dark  ages  had  been  used  for  a  place  of  secret 
imprisonments,  executions,  and  burials. 

Lord  Vincent  flashed  his  lantern  around  upon  the  scene  and 
then  went  up  to  one  of  the  grated  doors,  unfastened  it,  and 
entered  the  dungeon. 

It  was  a  small  stone  cavity,  a  hard  hole,  where  it  seemed  im 
possible  for  a  human  being  to  live  and  breathe  for  an  hour.  , 
And  yet  poor  old  Katie,  with  the  wonderful  tenacity  of  life 
which  belongs  to  the  pure  African,  had  clung  to  existence  there 
ever  since  the  hour  when,  seeming  dead,  she  had  been  dragged 
from  the  apartments  of  Faustina  to  this  hideous  vault. 

So  you  see  he  had  deceived  Faustina  into  the  belief  that 
Katie  had  died  in  the  vault  from  the  effects  of  chloroform. 

By  the  dim  light  of  the  lantern  her  form  could  now  be  seen 
squatted  in  the  corner  of  the  dungeon.  Her  knees  were  drawn 
up,  her  arms  folded  on  them,  and  her  head  buried  in  them.  She 
had  fallen  asleep;  probably  after  long  watching  and  fasting 
and  the  effects  of  mental  and  physical  exhaustion.  The  entrance 
of  the  viscount  did  not  awaken  her. 

"  This  is  the  woman ;  I  was  ebliged  to  confine  her  here  for  a 
violent  assault  upon  a  lady  of  my  family.  She  is  fast  asleep; 
but  to  attempt  to  remove  her  might  awaken  her;  so  we  will 
make  all  sure  by  sending  her  into  a  deeper  sleep,"  whispered 
the  viscount,  drawing  from  his  pocket  first  a  bottle  of  chloro 
form  and  then  a  piece  of  sponge,  which  he  proceeded  to  saturate 
with  the  liquid. 

But  it  required  tact  to  apply  it.  Katie's  face  was  buried  in 
her  arms.  So  he  first  put  the  lantern  out  of  the  way  where  it 
could  not  shine  upon  her,  and  then  went  and  gently  lifted 
Katie's  head  with  one  hand  while  he  applied  the  sponge  near 
her  nose  with  the  other. 

"Yes,  chile;  I  tink  so  too — my  ladyship — whited  saltpetre — 
Bottomy  Bay,"  muttered  Katie,  who  was  sleeping  the  deep 
sleep  of  her  race,  and  probably  dreaming  of  her  lady  and  her 
lady's  dangers. 

The  viscount  laid  her  head  back  on  his  own  breast,  put  the 
asnlorofonn  sponge  to  her  nose,  and  fitted  his  own  slouch  hat 
aver  her  face  in  such  a  manner  as  to  confine  the  fumes. 


248  SELF-RAISED  J   OR,   FROM   THE  DEPTHS. 

Poor  old  Katie's  wide  nostrils  soon  inhaled  the  whole  of  the 
deadly  vapor,  which  acted  with  unusual  power  upon  her  ex 
hausted  frame,  so  that  she  speedily  lay  as  one  dead. 

"  Take  her  up !  make  haste !  There  is  a  shorter  way  out  of 
this  vault;  but  I  could  not  bring  you  here  by  it  because  it  is 
fastened  on  this  side,"  said  the  viscount,  leaving  the  den. 

The  captain  and  mate  went  in,  and  raised  old  Katie's  unre 
sisting  form  in  their  arms,  and  followed  the  viscount,  who  led 
them  from  the  vault  into  a  long  stone  passage,  at  the  end  of 
which  was  a  door,  fastened  on  the  inside  with  a  chain  and  pad 
lock. 

The  viscount  unlocked  this  door,  which  opened  out  into  a 
rocky  cave,  through  which  they  passed  to  an  intricate,  wind 
ing,  and  rugged  labyrinth,  which  finally  led  out  into  the  open 
air,  on  the  beach  near  which  the  boat  was  left. 

The  captain  and  mate  laid  down  their  burden,  and  stretched 
their  limbs,  and  took  a  long  breath.  The  viscount  beckoned 
the  boatmen  to  approach,  and  they  came.  Then  turning  to 
the  captain,  he  said: 

"You  had  better  order  these  men  to  take  this  woman  im 
mediately  to  the  boat,  and  carry  her  across  to  the  vessel,  and 
lock  her  up  in  some  place  of  safety.  Then  they  can  return  for 
us;  and  in  the  meantime  we  will  return  to  the  castle  for  the 
other  two." 

"Yes,  senor,"  said  the  captain;  and  he  promptly  gave  the 
order. 

The  viscount  waited  until  he  saw  Katie  safely  in  the  boat 
and  half  across  on  her  way  to  the  vessel,  and  then  he  beckoned 
his  companions  to  follow  him,  and  led  the  way  back  to  the 
castle. 

This  time  he  conducted  them  to  an  old  turret  that  had  been 
appointed  to  the  use  of  Lady  Vincent's  servants ;  it  was  remote 
from  the  sleeping  apartments  of  the  other  domestics.  The 
locks  were  without  keys. 

"  We  will  take  the  man  first,"  said  Lord  Vincent,  softly  open 
ing  an  old  oaken  door  and  leading  them  into  a  small  circular 
room,  scantily  furnished,  where,  upon  a  rude  bedstead,  lay  poor 
Jim  in  a  profound  sleep.  He  was  a  fine  subject  for  their  vil 
lainous  practices.  He  was  lying  on  his  back,  with  his  head 
stretched  back  over  his  pillow,  his  eyes  fast  closed,  and  his 
mouth  wide  open.  One  touching  incident  in  the  appearance 
of  this  poor  fellow  was  the  presence  of  two  large  tears  on  hia 


THE   CASTLE  VAULT.  249 

cheeks.  He  had  probably  lain  awake  all  night,  and  just  cried 
himself  to  sleep  over  the  fate  of  his  mother,  whom  his  loyal 
heart  loved  so  faithfully. 

Tne  viscount  applied  the  chloroform,  and  Jim's  sleep  sunk 
into  insensibility.  The  captain  and  the  mate  then  raised  him 
in  their  arms  and  bore  him  from  the  room  and  through  the 
many  passages  and  down  the  many  stairs,  and  along  the  great 
hall  to  the  outside  of  the  castle. 

They  had  a  hard  time  getting  him  down  the  cliff.  But  they 
accomplished  the  task  at  last.  They  found  the  boat  returned 
and  the  boatmen  waiting  patiently  for  their  arrival. 

"  Captain,  the  tide  serves,"  said  one  of  these  men. 

"  I  know  it,  Jacques.  We  will  sail  in  half  an  hour.  Where 
did  you  put  the  woman?" 

"  I  locked  her  in  your  cabin  for  the  present,  captain." 

"  Did  she  recover  her  senses  2 " 

"No,  captain." 

"  The  devil !    I  hope  she  won't  die." 

"  No  danger,  Costo ;  they  lie  insensible  under  the  influence  of 
chloroform  sometimes  for  hours,  and  then  recover  in  a  bet 
ter  condition  than  they  were  before,"  said  the  viscount,  haz 
arding  an  opinion  on  a  subject  of  which  he  knew  very  little. 
"But,  now,  order  the  sailors  to  convey  this  man  to  the  vessel 
and  then  return  once  more  for  us." 

"  Pardon,  senor.  We  had  better  bind  him  first.  If  he  should 
recover  before  he  reaches  the  vessel  he  might  jump  out  and 
make  his  escape,"  replied  the  captain,  drawing  a  large  silk 
handkerchief  from  his  pocket  and  tying  the  hands  of  the  captive 
firmly  behind  his  back. 

"  Lend  me  yours,  Paolo,"  he  next  requested,  holding  his  hands 
out  for  the  required  article. 

With  this  second  handkerchief  twisted  into  a  rope  the  captain 
firmly  tied  together  the  feet  of  the  captive. 

Jim  was  now  as  effectually  bound  as  if  his  fetters  had  been 
iron  or  rope;  but  he  was  beginning  to  show  signs  of  recovery. 
The  viscount  saw  this  and  applied  the  chloroform  again,  and 
Jim  relapsed  into  insensibility.  In  this  condition  he  was  con 
veyed  into  the  boat  and  rowed  swiftly  to  the  vessel. 

Meanwhile  Lord  Vincent  and  his  confederates  in  crime  re 
traced  their  steps  up  the  cliff. 

"We  must  be  very  quick  this  time,  for  the  household  will 
Boon  be  astir,"  whispered  Lord  Vincent  eagerly,  as  he  noticed 


250  SELF-RAISED  ;   OR,   FROM   THE   DEPTHS 

on  the  eastern  horizon  the  faint  dawn  of  the  late  winter  morn 
ing. 

They  entered  the  castle,  which,  luckily  for  them,  was  still 
buried  in  repose,  and  wound  their  circuitous  way  back  to  the 
turret  where  the  last  victim,  poor  Sally,  lay. 

The  viscount  opened  the  oaken  door  and  preceded  his  com 
panions  into  her  chamber. 

But,  oh,  horror!  Sally  was  awake  and  up!  She  was  seated 
on  the  side  of  her  bed  and  in  the  act  of  putting  on  her  shoes. 
On  seeing  the  viscount  enter  she  raised  her  eyes  and  gazed  in 
dumb  amazement. 

He  lost  no  time.  Like  a  wild  beast  he  sprang  upon  her  be 
fore  she  could  utter  a  cry. 

Throwing  one  arm  around  her  throat,  with  his  hand  upon 
her  mouth,  he  forced  her  head  back  against  his  breast  and  ap 
plied  the  chloroform  until  she  succumbed  to  its  fatal  power  and 
Bunk  like  a  corpse  in  his  arms. 

Then  his  two  accomplices  took  her,  and  by  the  same  winding; 
route  of  halls,  stairs,  and  passages  carried  her  out  of  the  castle 
and  down  to  the  beach,  where  the  boat  was  waiting  to  receive 
her.  They  put  her  into  it,  and  the  viscount,  the  captain,  and 
the  mate  followed.  In  three  minutes  they  reached  the  vessel, 
and  all  went  on  board,  taking  the  captive  girl  with  them. 

The  viscount  accompanied  the  captain  to  his  little  office  and 
received  the  six  hundred  pounds  in  gold  which  was  the  price 
of  this  last  infamy. 

Then  the  accomplices  shook  hands  and  parted. 

The  sailors  rowed  the  viscount  back  to  the  shore,  and  then  re 
turned  to  their  vessel.  The  viscount  stood  on  the  beach,  watch 
ing  the  brigantine  until  she  raif  jd  her  anchor  and  made  sail. 
And  then,  as  it  was  growing  light,  he  turned  and  climbed  the 
oliff  and  entered  the  castle,  wearing  a  smile  of  triumph. 


THE  END  OF  CLAUDIA'S  PRIDE,  25J 

CHAPTER  XXXIL 
THE  END  OP  CLAUDIA'S  PRIDE. 

Is  she  saved  by  pangs  that  pained  her? 

Is  there  comfort  in  all  it  cost  her  ? 
Before  the  world  had  gained  her, 

Before  the  Lord  had  lost  her, 
Or  her  soul  had  quite  disdained  her? 

For  her  soul— (and  this  is  the  worst 

To  bear,  as  we  well  know) — 
Has  been  watching  her  from  the  first 

As  closely  as  God  could  do, 
And  herself  her  life  has  curst! 

Talk  of  the  flames  of  hell, 

We  build,  ourselves,  I  conceive, 
The  fire  the  fiend  lights.— Well  I 

Believe  or  disbelieve, 
We  know  more  than  we  tell. 

— Owen  Meredith* 

After  a  sleepless  Bight,  whose  lonely  anguish  would  have 
driven  almost  any  woman  who  was  compelled  to  endure  it  mad, 
Claudia  arose  and  rung  her  bell. 

No  one  answered  it. 

Too  impatient  to  wait  for  the  tardy  attendance  of  her  ser 
vants,  Claudia  thrust  her  feet  into  slippers,  drew  on  her  dress 
ing-gown,  and  went  and  opened  the  window-shutters  to  let  in 
the  morning  light.  Then  she  rang  again. 

Still  no  one  obeyed  the  summons. 

She  was  not  alarmed.  Even  with  the  knowledge  of  what  had 
gone  before,  she  felt  no  uneasiness.  She  went  to  the  dressing 
glass  and  loosened  her  hair,  and  let  it  fall  all  over  her  shoulders 
to  relieve  her  burning  head.  And  then  she  bathed  her  face  in 
cold  water.  She  was  impatient  to  make  her  toilet  and  leave 
the  castle. 

She  knew  that  all  was  over  with  her  worldly  grandeur;  that 
all  her  splendid  dreams  had  vanished  forever;  that  obscurity, 
perhaps  deepened  by  degradation,  was  all  that  awaited  her  in 
the  future. 

Wounded,  bruised,  and  bleeding  as  her  heart  was,  she  felt 
glad  to  go;  glad  to  leave  the  abode  of  splendid  discord,  misery, 
and  crime,  for  any  quiet  dwelling-place.  For  she  was  utterly 
worn  out  in  body,  mind,  and  spirit. 


252     SELF-RAISED  ;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

She  no  longer  desired  wealth,  rank,  admiration,  or  even  love; 
she  only  longed  for  peace;  prayed  for  peace. 

She  knew  a  turbulent  future  threatened  her;  but  she  feebly 
resolved  to  evade  it.  She  knew  that  Lord  Vincent  would  sue 
for  a  divorce  from  her;  would  drag  her  name  before  the  world 
and  make  it  a  by-word  of  scorn  in  those  very  circles  of  fashion 
over  which  she  had  once  hoped  to  reign;  she  would  not  oppose 
him,  she  thought;  she  had  no  energy  left  to  meet  the  over 
whelming  mass  of  testimony  with  which  he  had  prepared  tc 
crush  her.  If  her  father  should  come  over  and  defend  her 
cause — well  and  good.  She  would  let  him  do  it ;  but  as  for  her, 
she  would  go  away,  and  seek  peace. 

You  see,  Claudia  was  in  a  very  different  mood  of  mind  from 
that  of  the  night  previous,  which  had  inspired  her  with  such 
royal  dignity  and  heroic  courage  to  withstand  and  awe  her 
accusers. 

There  had  come  the  natural  reaction  from  high  excitement, 
and  feats  which  had  appeared  easy,  in  the  hour  of  her  exalted 
indignation,  seemed  now  impossible.  She  could  now  no  more  go 
to  the  American  minister,  and  tell  him  her  story,  and  claim  his 
assistance,  than  she  could  have  run  into  a  burning  fire.  But, 
thank  Heaven,  she  could  go  from  the  castle. 

She  rang  her  bell  a  third  time,  and  more  sharply  than  before. 
After  a  few  minutes  it  was  answered  by  the  housekeeper,  who 
entered  with  her  customary  respectful  courtesy. 

"  She  has  not  heard  of  last  night's  scandal,"  thought  Claudia, 
as  she  noticed  the  dame's  unaltered  manner. 

"I  have  rung  three  times,  Mrs.  Murdock.  Why  has  not  my 
maid  come  up  ?  "  she  inquired. 

"  Indeed,  me  leddy,  I  dinna  ken.  I  ha'  na  seen  the  lass  the 
morn,"  answered  the  woman. 

"  What !  You  do  not  mean  to  say  that  Sally  has  not  mad* 
her  appearance  this  morning  ? " 

"  Indeed  and  she  ha'  na,  me  leddy." 

"  Mrs.  Murdock,  pray  go  at  once  to  her  room  and  see  if  she 
is  there." 

The  housekeeper  went  away;  and  after  an  absence  of  fifteen 
minutes  returned  to  say  that  Sally  was  not  in  her  room. 

"  But  I  dinna  think  she  is  far  awa',  me  leddy ;  because  her 
bed  is  all  tumbled  as  if  she  was  just  out  of  it.  And  hei-  shoes 
and  clothes  are  lying  there,  just  as  she  put  them  off." 

"  I  will  dress  and  go  and  make  inquiries  myself.    Thi*  house 


''THEY  PUT  HER  INTO  THE  BOAT;  THE  VISCOUNT,  THE 
CAPTAIN  AND  MATE  FOLLOWED." 

— Page  250. 


THE   END    OF   CLAUDIA'S   PEIDE.  253 

is  a  place  of  mysterious  disappearances.  I  wonder  if  the  beach 
below  is  of  quicksand,  and  does  it  swallow  people  up  alive  ? " 

"I  dinna  ken,  me  leddy,"  gravely  answered  the  dame, 

"  Mrs.  Murdock,  can  you  help  me  to  dress  ? " 

"  Surely,  me  leddy,"  said  the  housekeeper,  approaching  Clau 
dia  with  so  much  respectful  affection  that  the  unhappy  lady 
said  once  more  to  herself: 

"  She  knows  nothing  of  last  night's  work." 

And  then  Claudia,  who  was  much  too  high-spirited  and  sin 
cere  to  receive  attentions  rendered  by  the  dame  in  ignorance 
of  that  night's  scandal  which  she  might  not  have  so  kindly  ren 
dered  had  she  known  of  them,  said: 

"  Mrs.  Murdock,  do  you  know  what  happened  last  night  ? " 

"  Aye,  surely,  me  leddy,  I  ken  a'  about  it,  if  your  leddyship 
means  the  fause  witness  o'  that  de'il  Frisbie,"  said  the  house 
keeper,  growing  red  with  emotion. 

"  It  was  a  false  witness !  a  base,  wicked,  infamous  calumny ! 
I  think  the  more  highly  of  you,  Mrs.  Murdock,  for  so  quickly 
detecting  this.  And  I  thank  you,"  said  Claudia,  with  difficulty 
restraining  the  tears,  which  for  the  first  time  since  her  great 
wrong  were  ready  to  burst  from  her  eyes. 

"  Ou,  aye,  me  leddy !  It  did  na  require  the  Witch  of  Endor 
to  see  the  truth  of  that  business.  Ye'll  see  I  ken  Laird  Vin 
cent  and  Frisbie  and  the  player-quean,  wha  is  worst  o'  a'! 
And  I  hanna  served  ye,  me  leddy,  these  twa  months  without 
kenning  yer  ladyship  as  well.  And  sae  1  ken  the  differ,  me 
leddy.  I  ken  the  differ " 

"  Oh,  Mrs.  Murdock,  in  this  deep  desolation  I  find  some  com 
fort  in  your  faith  in  me !  " 

"  And  sae  I  dinna  believe  a  word  the  fause  knave  Frisbie 
says.  And  neither  does  auld  Cuthbert,  honest  man !  But  wae's 
me,  me  leddy,  whate'er  our  convictions  may  be,  we  canna  dis 
prove  the  lees  o'  yon  de'il." 

"No,  we  cannot,"  said  Claudia,  with  a  sigh  of  despair;  "and 
unless  Providence  intervenes  to  save  me,  I  am  lost." 

"  Aweel,  me  leddy,  ye  maun  just  hope  that  he  will  intervene. 
!N"a,  na,  dinna  greet  sae  sairly ! "  the  good  woman  entreated,  for 
Claudia  had  burst  into  a  flood  of  tears,  and  was  weeping  bit 
terly. 

This  refreshed  her  spirit  and  cleared  her  brain.  Presently, 
wiping  her  eyes  and  looking  up,  she  said: 

"Mrs.  Murdock,  I  cannot  meet  those  wretches  at  breakfast. 


254  SELF-RAISED  ;    OR,    FROM   THE 

Send  me  some  coffee;  and  order  the  carriage  to  be  at  the  door 
in  an  hour;  also  send  Sally,  who  must  be  at  hand  by  this  time, 
to  help  me  pack." 

The  dame  went  on  this  errand,  and  after  a  short  absence  re 
turned,  bringing  Claudia's  breakfast  on  a  tray. 

"  Where  is  Sally  ? "  inquired  Lady  Vincent,  as  the  house 
keeper  arranged  the  breakfast  on  a  little  table. 

"  She  hanna  come  yet,  me  leddy,"  said  the  housekeeper,  who 
remained  and  waited  on  Lady  Vincent  at  breakfast. 

Claudia  could  eat  but  little.  To  all  her  own  sources  of  trouble 
was  now  added  alarm,  on  account  of  Sally.  What  if  the  hapless 
girl  had  shared  old  Katie's  fate  ?  was  the  question  that  now  be 
gan  to  torture  her. 

"  Have  you  seen  my  footman  this  morning,  Mrs.  Murdock  ? " 
she  inquired. 

"  Nae,  me  leddy ;  the  lad  aye  gaes  to  Banff  for  the  mail  about 
this  hour." 

"When  he  comes  send  him  to  me  at  once.  And  now  please 
take  the  service  away.  And  when  you  go  downstairs  institute 
a  search  for  my  maid.  And  do  you,  if  you  can  do  so  con 
veniently,  return  and  help  me  to  pack." 

"Aye,  me  leddy,"  replied  the  woman,  as  she  lifted  the  tray 
and  carried  it  away. 

In  a  few  minutes  she  returned  and  assisted  Lady  Vincent  to 
fill  one  large  trunk. 

"  That  is  all  I  shall  take  with  me.  I  shall  leave  the  remain 
der  of  my  wardrobe  in  your  care,  Mrs.  Murdock,  and  I  must 
request  you  to  see  them  packed  and  sent  on  to  Edinboro',  where 
I  shall  stop  before  deciding  on  my  future  steps,"  said  Lady  Vin 
cent. 

"Aye,  me  leddy;  ye  may  be  sure  I  will  do  a'  in  my  power 
to  serve  your  leddyship." 

"  And  now  pray  see  if  Jim  has  returned  from  the  post  office."1 

Mrs.  Murdock  went ;  but  returned  with  startling  news : 

"  The  lad  Jamie  has  na  got  back,  me  leddy ;  and  it  e'en  ap 
pears  that  he  has  na  gane.  I  just  asked  ane  o'  the  stable  lads 
what  time  it  was  when  Jamie  took  the  horse  to  gang  to  the 
post  office,  and  the  lad  said  that  Jamie  had  na  come  for  the 
horse  at  a'  1 " 

Claudia  sprang  tip  and  gazed  at  the  speaker  in  consternation ; 
and  then  sunk  down  in  her  chair,  and  covered  her  face  with 
her  hands  and  groaned. 


THE  END  OF  CLAUDIA'S  PKIDE.  255 

*  Dinna  do  that,  me  leddy — dinna  do  that ! " 

"  Oh,  Mrs.  Murdock !  don't  leave  me !  don't  lose  sight  of  me, 
£>r  I  shall  vanish  too ;  swallowed  up  in  this  great  ruin ! "  she 
cried,  with  a  shudder. 

There  was  a  rap  at  the  door.  Mrs.  Murdock  opened  it.  Lord 
Vincent's  footman  stood  there. 

"My  lord  sends  his  compliments  to  my  lady,  and  says  that 
the  carriage  is  waiting  to  take  her  from  the  castle;  the  tide 
is  rising,  which  will  render  the  road  impassable  for  several 
hours;  and  he  hopes  she  will  take  that  fact  into  consideration 
and  not  delay  her  departure." 

" '  Delay '  ?  I  am  only  too  glad  to  go.  But  oh,  my  poor  faith 
ful  servants.  Mrs.  Murdock,  tell  the  man  to  send  someone  up 
here  to  carry  my  trunk  down,"  said  Lady  Vincent,  hastily 
putting  on  her  sable  cloak  and  tying  on  her  bonnet. 

Her  heart  ached  at  the  thought  of  abandoning  her  servants; 
and  she  only  reconciled  herself  to  the  measure  by  reflecting 
that  to  lodge  information  with  the  detective  police  at  Banff 
would  really  be  the  best  means  she  could  possibly  take  for  their 
recovery. 

When  two  of  the  men  servants  had  carried  down  her  trunk, 
Lady  Vincent  shook  hands  with  the  kind-hearted  housekeeper, 
and  prepared  to  follow  them.  In  taking  leave  of  Mrs.  Mur 
dock  she  said : 

"  I  thank  you  sincerely  for  your  kindness  to  the  strangers 
that  came  to  your  land.  You  are  really  the  only  friend  that 
I  and  my  unfortunate  servants  have  met  since  our  arrival  in 
this  country ;  and  I  shall  not  forget  you !  " 

The  housekeeper  wept. 

"  When  my  poor  servants  reappear,  if  they  ever  should  do  so, 
you  will  be  so  good  as  to  send  them  to  me  at  Edinboro'.  Send 
them  to  the  railway  office,  where  I  will  leave  my  address." 

"  Aye,  me  leddy,  I  will  na  forget,"  sobbed  the  old  dame. 

Claudia  pressed  her  hand,  dropped  it,  and  went  below. 

In  crossing  the  central  hall  towards  the  principal  entrance 
Claudia  suddenly  stopped  as  though  the  Gorgon's  head  had 
blasted  her  sight.  For  Lord  Vincent  stood  near  the  open  door, 
as  if  to  witness  and  triumph  over  her  expulsion.  With  a  strong 
effort  she  conquered  her  weakness  and  approached  the  door. 
The  viscount  made  a  low  and  mocking  bow  and  stepped  aside. 
Claudia  confronted  him. 

"My  lord,"  she  said,  "you  think  you  have  very  successfully, 


256  SELF-BAISED  J   OE,    FROM   THE   DEPTHS. 

conspired  against  my  honor;  but  if  there  is  justice  on  earth, 
or  in  heaven,  you  will  yet  be  exposed  and  punished." 

Lord  Vincent  made  her  an  ironical  bow;  but  no  other  reply. 

"  Where  axe  my  servants  ? "  she  inquired  solemnly. 

"I  am  not  their  manager,  my  lady,  that  I  should  be  con 
versant  with  their  movements,"  answered  the  viscount. 

"My  lord,  you  well  know  where  they  are.  And  if  Heaven 
should  bless  my  efforts  this  morning,  the  world  shall  soon 
know." 

"  My  lady,  the  way  is  open ;  the  north  wind  rather  piercing. 
Will  you  please  to  pass  out  and  let  me  close  it  ? "  said  his  lord 
ship,  holding  the  door  wide  open  for  her  exit. 

"  Will  you  tell  me  where  my  servants  are  ? "  persisted 
Claudia, 

"  I  do  not  know,  my  lady.  They  have  probably  stolen  the 
plate  and  gone.  I  will  ask  the  butler,  and  if  it  is  so,  I  will  put 
the  constables  on  their  track,"  said  Lord  Vincent,  bowing  and 
waving  his  hand  towards  the  door. 

"  I  leave  you  to  the  justice  of  Heaven,  evil  man ! "  replied 
Claudia,  as  she  passed  through  and  left  the  castle.  She  en 
tered  the  carriage  and  was  driven  off. 

Lord  Vincent  closed  the  door  behind  her  and  then  went  into 
the  breakfast  room,  where  the  cloth  was  already  laid.  Neither 
Mrs.  MacDonald  nor  Mrs.  Dugald  had  yet  come  down.  They 
seemed  to  be  sleeping  latt?  after  their  disturbed  night. 

Presently,  however,  they  entered — Mrs.  MacDonald  looking 
very  much  embarrassed,  Faustina  pale  as  death.  Lord  Vin 
cent  received  them  with  grave  politeness,  and  they  all  sat  down 
to  the  table. 

It  was  then  Lord  Vincent  said : 

"  Mrs.  MacDonald,  Lady  Vincent  has  this  morning  left  this 
house  upon  which  she  has  brought  so  much  dishonor.  It  is 
also  necessary  for  me  to  go  to  London  to  take  measures  for  the 
dissolution  of  my  marriage.  I  am,  therefore,  about  to  ask  of 
you  a  great  favor." 

"Ask  any  you  please,  my  lord.  I  am  very  anxious  to  be  of 
service  to  you  in  this  awful  crisis.  And  I  will  gladly  do  all 
in  my  power  to  help  you,"  replied  this  very  complaisant  lady. 

"  I  thank  you,  madam.  I  thank  you  very  much.  The  favor 
I  had  to  ask  of  you  is  this — that  you  will  kindly  remain  here 
with  Mrs.  Dugald,  until  some  plan  is  formed  for  her  future 
residence." 


THE  END  or  CLAUDIA'S  jrKiDit,  257 


"  Surely,  my  lord,  I  will  remain  with  great  pleasure,"  an« 
swered  this  needy  lady,  who  was  only  too  glad  to  leave  for  a 
season  the  straitened  home  of  her  married  sister,  and  take  up 
her  abode  in  this  plentiful  establishment. 

"Again  I  thank  you,  madam;  thank  you  cordially  on  the 
part  of  my  widowed  sister  as  well  as  on  my  own  part,"  said  tba 
viscount  courteously. 

And  this  point  being  settled,  the  party  dispersed. 

Mrs.  MacDonald  retired  to  her  own  apartments  to  write  a 
note  to  her  sister,  requesting  that  her  effects  might  be  for 
warded  to  Castle  Cragg. 

Mrs.  Dugald  went  to  her  boudoir  to  await  there  in  feverish 
impatience  the  arrival  of  the  viscount. 

He  did  not  keep  her  long  in  suspense;  he  soon  entered, 
locked  the  door  behind  him,  and  seated  himself  beside  her. 

"  She  is  gone  —  really  gone  ?  "  whispered  Faustina,  in  a  low, 
eager,  breathless  voice. 

"  Yes,  my  angel  ;  you  heard  me  say  so." 

"Really  and  truly  gone?" 

"  Really  and  truly." 

"  Oh,  I  am  so  glad  !  And  her  servants  ?  Ah,  I  always  hated 
those  blacks  !  She  has  not  left  them  behind  ?  " 

"  Certainly  not,"  answered  the  viscount  evasively. 

"  Ah,  what  a  relief  !    The  house  is  well  rid  of  them." 

"It  is,  indeed,  my  love." 

u  But  —  but  —  but  —  the  dead  body  ?  "  whispered  the  woman  in 
a  husky  voice,  while  her  eyes  dilated  with  terror. 

"  It  is  gone." 

"Where?  how?" 

"I  tied  a  heavy  weight  to  its  feet  and  sunk  it  in  the  depths 
of  the  sea,"  replied  the  viscount,  who  felt  no  scruples  in  de 
ceiving  anyone,  least  of  all  his  accomplice  in  crime. 

And  this  shows  the  utter  falsity  of  the  absurd  proverb  that 
asserts  "  there  is  honor  among  thieves."  There  can  be  no  honor 
and  no  confidence  in  any  league  wherein  the  bond  is  guilt. 

Lord  Vincent  was  completely  under  the  influence  of  Mrs. 
Dugald,  whom  he  worshiped  with  a  fatal  passion  —  a  passion 
the  more  violent  and  enduring  because  she  continually  stimu 
lated  without  ever  satisfying  it.  Up  to  this  time  she  had  never 
once  permitted  the  viscount  to  kiss  her.  Thus  he  was  her 
slave;  but,  like  all  slaves,  he  deceived  his  tyrant.  He  had  de 
ceived  Mrs.  Dugald  from  the  first  ;  he  habitually  deceived  her. 


258  SELF-RAISED  J   OR,   FROM   THE   DEPTHS. 

In  this  instance  he  persuaded  her  that  old  Katie  died  undei 
the  influence  of  the  chloroform  that  she  had  helped  to  adminis 
ter  on  that  fatal  night  when  the  old  negress  had  been  discov 
ered  eavesdropping  behind  the  curtain  in  Mrs.  Dugald's  apart 
ments. 

What  his  motive  could  have  been  for  this  deception  it  would 
be  difficult  to  say;  perhaps  it  was  for  the  purpose  of  gaining 
some  power  over  her;  perhaps  it  was  from  the  pleasure  of  tor 
turing  her  and  seeing  her  terrors — for  his  passion  for  the 
woman  was  by  no  means  that  pure  love  which  seeks  first  of  all 
the  good  of  its  object;  and,  finally,  perhaps  it  was  from  the 
mere  habit  of  duplicity. 

However  that  might  be,  he  had  persuaded  her  that  Katie 
was  dead,  dead  from  the  effects  of  the  chloroform  they  had 
forced  her  to  take. 

And  now  that  he  had  really  committed  a  felony  by  selling  the 
three  negroes  to  a  West  Indian  smuggler,  he  was  not  inclined 
to  confess  the  truth.  For  not  upon  any  account  would  he  have 
confided  to  his  companion  in  guilt  the  secret  of  a  criminal 
transaction  in  which  she  had  not  also  been  implicated.  He 
could  not  have  trusted  her  so  far  as  to  place  his  liberty  in  her 
keeping.  Therefore  he  preferred  she  should  believe  Katie's 
body  had  been  sunk  in  the  depths  of  the  sea;  and  that  Sally 
and  Jim  had  accompanied  their  lady  in  her  departure  from  the 
castle.  It  is  true,  the  household  servants  might  soon  disabuse 
her  mind  of  the  mistake  that  the  lady's  maid  and  footman  had 
gone  with  their  mistress.  But  if  they  should  do  so,  the  vis 
count  knew  he  could  easily  plead  ignorance  as  to  the  fact;  and 
say  that  all  he  knew  was,  she  had  not  left  them  at  the  castle. 

Mrs.  Dugald  listened  to  his  account  of  the  disposition  of  old 
Katie's  body  with  deep  delight.  She  clapped  her  little  hands 
in  her  usual  silly  manner  and  exclaimed  eagerly: 

"  That  is  good ;  oh,  that  is  good !  But  are  you  sure  it  will 
stay  down  there?  Great  Heaven,  if  it  should  rise  against  us! " 

"  There  is  no  danger,  love,  no  danger." 

"  We  should  all  be  guillotined ! "  she  repeated  for  the  twen 
tieth  time  since  that  night.  And  she  shuddered  through  all  her 
frame. 

"Hanged,  my  dearest,  not  guillotined;  hanged  by  the  neck 
till  we  are  dead,"  said  the  viscount,  smiling. 

"Ah,  but  you  look  like  Mephistopheles  when  you  say  thatl" 
she  shrieked,  covering  her  face  with  her  hands. 


THE   COUNTESS    OF   HURSTMONCEUX.  259 

"  But  there  is  no  danger,  none  at  all,  I  assure  you.  And  now, 
my  angel,  I  must  leave  you;  I  ordered  the  brougham  to  be  at 
the  door  at  twelve  precisely  to  take  me  to  Banff  to  meet  the 
Aberdeen  coach.  And  I  have  some  preparations  to  make.  Come 
down  into  the  drawing  room  and  wait  to  take  leave  of  me,  that 
is  a  dear." 

"  Oh,  yes,  yes !  but  before  you  £o,  promise  me !  You  will 
'ivrite  every  day  ?  " 

"  Every  day,  my  angel,"  said  tfre  viscount,  bowing  over  her 
hand,  before  he  withdrew  fron>  the  room. 

His  preparations  were  s<>Dn  made.  Old  Cuthbert  performed 
the  duties  of  valet.  And.  punctually  at  twelve  o'clock  the  vis 
count  took  leave  of  his  evil  demon  and  her  chaperon  and  de 
parted  for  Banff,,  wh*re  he  took  the  coach  to  Aberdeen,  at  which 
place  he  arrived  in  time  to  catch  the  night  train  up  to  London. 


CHAPTEE  XXXIII. 

THE  COUNTESS  OF  HURSTMONCEUX. 

The  beauteous  woe  that  charms  like  faded  light, 
The  cheek  so  pure  that  knows  no  youthful  bloom, 
"Well  suiteth  her  dark  brow  and  forehead  white, 
And  in  the  sad  endurance  of  her  eye 
Is  all  that  love  believes  of  woman's  majesty. 

— Elliott. 

In  the  meantime  Lady  Vincent  reached  Banff.  She  drove  at 
once  to  the  principal  hotel,  where  she  engaged  a  room  into 
which  her  luggage  was  carried.  With  a  gratuity  to  the  coach 
man  who  had  driven  her  she  dismissed  the  carriage,  which  re 
turned  immediately  to  the  castle. 

Then  she  ordered  a  fly  and  drove  to  the  police  station — at 
that  time  a  mean  little  stone  edifice,  exceedingly  repulsive  with 
out  and  excessively  filthy  within. 

A  crowd  of  disreputable-looking  ragamuffins  of  both  sexes 
and  all  ages  obstructed  the  entrance.  Surely  it  was  a  revolt 
ing  scene  to  one  of  Lady  Vincent's  fastidious  nature  and  re 
fined  habits.  But  she  did  not  shrink  from  her  duty.  She  made 
her  way  through  this  disgusting  assemblage,  and  found  just 
within  the  door  a  policeman,  to  whom  she  said: 

"  I  wish,  if  you  please,  to  see  your  inspector." 

"You  will  have  to  wait  in  the  outer  room,  then,  miss,  be- 


260        SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

cause  he  is  engaged  now,"  replied  the  man  curtly ;  for  the  beauty 
of  the  woman,  the  costliness  of  her  apparel,  and  the  fact  of  her 
having  come  unattended  to  a  place  like  that,  filled  the  mind  of 
the  officer  with  evil  suspicions  concerning  her. 

He  opened  a  door  on  the  left  and  let  the  visitor  pass  into 
the  anteroom — a  wretched  stone  hall,  whose  floor  was  carpeted 
with  dirt  and  whose  windows  were  curtained  with  cobwebs. 
A  bench  ran  along  the  wall  at  one  end,  on  which  sat  several 
forlorn,  stupefied,  or  desperate-looking  individuals  waiting  their 
turn  to  be  examined.  Two  or  three  policemen,  walking  up  and 
down,  kept  these  persons  in  custody. 

Claudia  could  not  sit  down  among  them;  she  walked  to  one 
of  the  windows  and  looked  out. 

She  waited  there  some  time,  while  one  after  another  the 
prisoners  were  taken  in  and  examined.  Some  returned  from 
examination  free,  and  walked  out  unattended  and  wearing 
satisfied  countenances.  Others  came  back  in  the  custody  of 
policemen  and  with  downcast  looks. 

It  seemed  long  before  the  inspector  was  at  leisure  to  receive 
her.  At  length,  however,  the  policeman  she  had  seen  at  the 
door  came  up  and  said: 

"Now,  miss!" 

Claudia  arose  and  followed  him  to  another  room — a  small, 
carpeted  office,  where  Inspector  Murray  was  seated  at  a  desk. 

He  was  a  keener  observer  of  character  than  the  policeman 
had  proved  himself  to  be;  and  so,  despite  the  suspicious 
circumstances  which  had  awakened  that  worthy's  doubts, 
Inspector  Murray  recognized  in  his  visitor  a  lady  of  rank.  He 
arose  to  receive  her  and  handed  her  a  chair,  and  then  seated 
himself  and  respectfully  waited  for  her  to  open  her  business. 

Lady  Vincent  felt  so  much  embarrassed  that  it  was  some 
time  before  she  spoke.  At  length,  however,  she  took  courage 
to  say: 

"  My  errand  here  is  a  very  painful  one,  sir." 

The  inspector  bowed  and  looked  attentive. 

"Indeed  it  is  of  so  strange  and  distressing  a  nature  that  I 
scarcely  know  how  to  explain  it,"  she  said. 

"  I  beg  you  will  feel  no  hesitation  in  making  your  com 
munication,  madam.  We  are  accustomed  to  receive  strange  and 
distressing  complaints." 

"  Sir,"  said  Claudia,  gently  preparing  the  way,  "  you  have 
not  failed,  'then,  in  the  course  of  your  professional  experience, 


THE   COUNTESS   OF   HUfcSTMONCEUX.  261 

' — 1 

to  observe  that  crime  is  not  an  inmate  of  the  houses  of  the 
impoverished  and  the  degraded  only,  but  that  it  may  be  found 
in  the  mansions  of  the  rich  and  the  palaces  of  the  nobility." 

"Without  a  doubt,  madam." 

"  Then  you  will  be  the  less  shocked  when  I  inform  you  that 
the  circumstances  which  have  driven  me  to  seek  your  aid 
occurred  recently  in  Castle  Cragg,  in  the  family  of  Lord  Vin 
cent." 

"It  is  not  the  murder  that  was  lately  committed  there  to 
which  you  allude  ? "  gravely  inquired  the  inspector. 

"  Oh,  no,  not  that  murder ;  but  I  greatly  fear  there  has  been 
another  one,"  replied  Claudia,  with  a  shudder. 

"  Madam !  "  exclained  the  inspector,  in  astonishment. 

"  I  fear  it  is  as  I  have  hinted,  sir,"  persisted  Claudia. 

"  But  who  has  been  murdered  ? " 

"  I  suspect  that  a  harmless  old  female  servant,  named  Katie 
Mrtimer  who  became  aware  of  a  dangerous  secret,  has  been." 

"And— by  whom?" 

"  I  fear  by  a  woman  called  Faustina  Dugald  and  a  man 
named  Alick  Frisbie." 

Now,  it  is  very  difficult  to  surprise  or  startle  an  inspector 
of  police.  But  Mr.  Murray  was  really  more  than  surprised  or 
startled.  He  was  shocked  and  appalled,  as  his  countenance 
betrayed  when  he  dropped  his  pen  and  fell  back  in  his  chair. 

"  Madam,"  he  said,  "  do  you  know  what  you  are  saying? " 

"  Full  well,  sir;  and  I  entreat  you  to  receive  my  statement  in 
detail  and  act  upon  it  with  promptitude.  Your  own  investi 
gations  will  discover  how  much  cause  I  have  for  my  suspicions," 
said  Claudia  firmly. 

The  inspector  drew  some  writing  paper  before  him,  took  up 
his  pen,  and  said: 

"  Proceed,  madam,  if  you  please." 

Claudia  commenced  her  statement,  but  was  almost  imme 
diately  interrupted  by  the  inspector,  who  said: 

"  Your  name,  madam,  if  you  please." 

Claudia  started  and  blushed  at  her  own  f orgetfulness ; 
though,  in  truth,  it  had  never  occurred  to  her  to  introduce 
herself  by  name  to  an  inspector  of  police.  Now,  however,  she 
perceived  how  necessary  it  was  that  her  name  should  attend 
her  statement. 

"I  am  Lady  Vincent,"  she  replied. 

There  was  an  instantaneous  change  in  the  inspector's  man* 


SELF-RAISED  ;   OR,    FROM   THE   DEPTHS. 

ner.     His    deportment    had    been    respectful    from   the 
because  he  had  recognized  his  visitor  as  a  lady ;  but  his  manner 
was  obsequious  now  that  he  heard  she  was  a  titled  lady. 

"  I  beg  your  ladyship's  pardon,"  he  said.  "  I  had  no  idea 
that  I  was  honored  with  the  presence  of  Lady  Vincent.  Pray, 
my  lady,  do  not  inconvenience  yourself  in  the  least  by  going 
over  these  painful  things  at  the  present  hour,  unless  you  feel 
that  it  is  really  necessary.  I  could  wait  on  your  ladyship  at! 
your  residence  and  receive  your  communication  there." 

"  Sir,  I  thank  you  for  your  courtesy,  but  I  prefer  to  make 
my  statement  now  and  here,"  replied  Claudia. 

The  inspector  dipped  his  pen  in  ink  and  looked  attentive. 

Claudia  proceeded  with  her  communication.  She  related  all 
the  circumstances  that  had  come  to  her  knowledge  respecting 
the  disappearance  of  Katie,  and  the  inspector  took  down  her 
words. 

Then  she  mentioned  the  more  recent  evanishment  of  Sally 
and  Jim;  but  she  alluded  to  these  facts  only  as  collateral  cir 
cumstances;  she  could  not  believe  that  the  two  last  named  had 
lost  their  lives. 

When  the  inspector  had  taken  down  the  whole  of  her  state 
ment  she  arose  to  go. 

The  inspector  also  arose. 

"  Will  you  investigate  this  matter  immediately  ? "  she  said. 

"  I  will  do  so  to-day,  my  lady,"  replied  Mr.  Murray,  bowing 
deferentially. 

"  Can  I  be  of  any  assistance  to  you  in  pursuing  your  inquiry 
into  this  affair?" 

"  Not  at  present,  I  thank  your  ladyship,"  replied  the  in 
spector,  with  a  second  bow. 

"  Then  I  will  bid  you  good-morning." 

"I  beg  your  ladyship's  pardon;  but  would  your  ladyship 
deign  to  leave  your  address  with  me?  We  might  need  your 
ladyship's  personal  testimony." 

"  Certainly,"  said  Claudia.  "  I  shall  go  to  Edinboro'  to-day, 
where  I  shall  remain  at  the  best  hotel,  if  you  know  which  that 
is,  for  a  few  days;  before  I  leave  I  will  write  and  advise  you 
of  my  destination.  And  now  there  is  one  important  part  of  my 
errand  that  I  had  nearly  forgotten.  It  was  to  ask  you  to  ad 
vertise  for  the  missing  servants,  and  to  authorize  you  to  offer 
a  reward  of  two  hundred  pounds  for  any  information  that  may 
lead  to  their  recovery." 


THE   COUJSTESS   OF   HUESTMONCEUX.  263 

"I  will  do  it  immediately,  my  lady,"  replied  Inspector  Mur 
ray,  as  he  obsequiously  attended  Lady  Vincent  to  the  door  and 
put  her  into  the  fly. 

She  drove  quickly  back  to  her  hotel,  where  she  had  only  time 
to  take  a  slight  luncheon  before  starting  in  the  eleven  o'clock 
coach  for  Aberdeen,  where,  after  four  hours'  ride  through  a 
wildly  picturesque  country,  she  arrived  just  in  time  to  take 
the  afternoon  train  to  Edinboro'.  It  was  the  express  train, 
and  reached  the  old  city  at  seven  o'clock  that  evening. 

Among  the  many  hotels  whose  handbills,  pasted  on  the  walls 
of  the  railway  station,  claimed  the  attention  of  travelers,  Clau 
dia  selected  "  MacGruder's,"  because  it  was  opposite  Scott's 
monument. 

She  took  a  cab  and  drove  there.  She  liked  the  appearance 
of  the  house,  and  engaged  a  comfortable  suite  of  apartments, 
consisting  of  a  parlor,  bed  chamber,  and  bathroom,  and  ordered 
dinner. 

Now,  by  all  the  rules  of  tradition,  Claudia,  ignominiously 
expelled  from  her  husband's  house,  deprived  of  her  servants' 
attendance,  far  from  all  her  friends,  alone  in  a  strange  hotel 
in  a  foreign  city,  with  a  degrading  trial  threatening  her — Clau 
dia,  I  say,  ought  to  have  been  very  unhappy.  But  she  was  not. 
She  was  almost  happy. 

Her  spirits  rebounded  from  their  long  depression.  Her  sen 
sations  were  those  of  escape,  freedom,  independence.  She  felt 
like  a  bird  freed  from  its  cage;  a  prisoner  released  from  cap 
tivity;  a  soul  delivered  from  purgatory.  Oh,  she  was  so 
glad — so  glad  to  get  away  entirely,  to  get  away  forever — from 
the  hold  of  sin,  that  Castle  Cragg,  where  she  had  been  buried 
alive  so  long;  where  she  had  lived  in  torment  among  lost 
spirits;  where  the  monotony  had  been  like  the  gloom  of  the 
grave,  and  the  guilt  like  the  corruption  of  death! 

She  had  passed  through  the  depths  of  Hades,  and  was  happy 
— how  happy! — to  rise  to  the  upper  air  again  and  see  the  stars. 
This,  only,  was  enough  for  the  present.  And  she  scarcely 
thought  of  the  future.  Whatever  that  unknown  future  might 
bring  her,  it  would  not  bring  back  Castle  Cragg,  Lord  Vin 
cent,  Faustina,  or  Frisbie. 

After  she  had  refreshed  herself  with  a  bath  and  a  change 
of  dress,  she  went  into  the  parlor,  where  she  found  a  warm 
fire,  a  bright  light,  and  a  neatly  laid  table. 

And  whatever  you  may  think  of  her,  she   really  enjoyexi 


264        SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

the  boiled  salmon,  roasted  moor-hen,  and  cabinet  custard  she 
had  ordered  for  dinner.  After  the  service  was  removed  she 
sat  comfortably  in  her  easy-chair  before  the  fire,  and  reflected 
on  her  future  movements. 

She  liked  her  quarters  in  this  hotel  very  much.  The  rooms 
were  clean  and  comfortable;  the  servants  were  polite  and  at 
tentive;  the  meals  delicately  prepared  and  elegantly  served. 

And  she  resolved  to  remain  here  for  the  present;  to  write 
to  her  father  by  the  first  American  mail;  and  while  waiting 
for  his  answer,  beguile  the  interval  by  seeing  everything  that 
might  prove  interesting  in  the  city  and  in  the  surrounding 
country. 

And  in  a  locality  so  rich  in  historical  monuments  as  this  was, 
she  was  sure  of  interesting  occupation  for  the  month  that  must 
intervene  before  she  could  hear  from  her  father  in  answer  to 
the  letter  which  she  meant  to  write. 

She  had  brought  with  her  from  Castle  Cragg  all  the  ready 
money  she  had;  it  was  something  more  than  two  hundred 
pounds;  so  that  there  was  nothing  to  fear  from  financial  em 
barrassments. 

After  settling  this  matter  to  her  satisfaction,  Claudia,  feeling 
very  tired,  went  to  bed,  and  having  lost  two  nights'  rest,  imme 
diately  fell  into  a  deep  and  dreamless  sleep,  that  lasted,  un 
broken,  until  morning. 

Her  first  sensation  on  awakening  from  this  sleep  of  oblivion 
to  the  consciousness  of  her  altered  circumstances  was — not 
humiliation  at  her  own  unmerited  dishonor — not  dread  of  the 
impending,  degrading  trial — but  pleasure  at  the  recollection 
that  she  was  free;  that  she  was  away  from  Castle  Cragg;  that 
she  would  not  have  to  meet  Lord  Vincent  and  Faustina  at 
breakfast ;  that  she  would  never  have  to  meet  them  again. 

Ah!  only  those  who  have  been  compelled  for  months  to 
breathe  the  vitiated  atmosphere  of  guilt  can  appreciate  the 
excess  of  Claudia's  joy  at  her  deliverance.  It  was  a  joy  that 
not  even  the  distressing  circumstances  that  surrounded  her, 
and  the  trial  that  awaited  her,  had  any  power  to  destroy. 

To  one  who  knew  her  position,  without  being  able  to  enter 
into  her  feelings,  it  would  have  seemed  an  extravagant,  an 
unnatural,  an  insane  joy.  Perhaps  she  was  a  little  insane;  she 
had  had  enough  trouble  to  derange  her  reason. 

She  arose  gladly.  She  had  a  motive  for  rising  now;  for 
merly,  at  Castle  Cragg,  she  had  none,  because  she  had  nothir-.fr 


THE   COUNTESS   OF  HUKSTMONCEUX.  265 

to  do.  Now  she  had  to  order  her  breakfast,  write  to  her  father, 
and  drive  round  to  see  the  old  city. 

She  dressed  herself  quickly  and  went  into  the  parlor.  The 
windows  were  already  opened,  the  fire  lighted,  and  the  break 
fast  table  was  laid. 

She  went  to  the  windows  and  looked  out.  The  morning  was 
clear  and  bright.  It  seemed  to  her  that  even  Nature  sympa 
thized  in  her  deliverance.  The  winter  sun  shone  down  brightly 
upon  Scott's  monument,  that  stood  within  its  inclosure  in  the 
middle  of  the  space  before  her  windows.  Yes,  she  was  pleased 
with  her  quarters. 

She  rang  the  bell  and  ordered  breakfast,  which  was  quickly 
served.  When  she  had  finished  her  morning  meal  and  sent  the 
service  away,  she  got  her  writing-case  from  her  trunk  and  sat 
down  to  write  to  her  father  and  give  him  a  detailed  account 
of  her  misfortunes. 

But  she  found  a  difficulty  in  arranging  her  thoughts;  her 
mind  was  in  too  excitable  a  condition  to  admit  of  close  appli 
cation.  She  commenced,  and  discarded  letter  after  letter. 

Finally,  she  gave  up  trying  to  write  for  the  present.  There 
was  time  enough;  the  foreign  mail,  as  she  had  ascertained, 
did  not  close  until  six  o'clock  in  the  evening.  She  thought  a 
drive  through  the  old  city  would  work  off  her  excitement  and 
tranquilize  her  nerves.  She  rang  and  ordered  a  fly,  and  drove 
out. 

First  she  went  to  Holyrood,  and  soon  lost  all  consciousness 
of  her  own  present  and  individual  troubles  in  dreaming  of  all 
those  princes,  heroes,  and  beauties  of  history  who  had  lived  and 
sinned  or  suffered  within  those  old  palace  walls. 

She  went  into  Queen  Mary's  rooms,  and  fell  into  a  reverie 
over  that  fatal  bed-chamber,  which  remains  to  this  day  in  the 
same  condition  in  which  it  was  left  by  the  hapless  queen  about 
three  hundred  years  ago.  She  saw  the  steep,  dark,  narrow, 
secret  staircase,  with  its  opening  concealed  behind  the  tapes 
try,  up  which  the  assassins  of  Rizzio  had  crept  to  their  mur 
derous  work.  She  saw  the  little  turret  closet  in  which  the  poor 
queen  was  at  supper  with  her  ladies  when  the  minstrel  was 
surprised  and  massacred  in  her  presence. 

She  went  into  the  great  picture  gallery,  where  hung  the  por 
traits  of  the  Scottish  kings — each  mother's  royal  son  painted 
with  a  large  curled  proboscis — "  a  nose  like  a  door-knocker,"  as 
someone  described  it.  With  one  exception — that  of  James  IV., 


266        SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

the  hapless  hero  of  Flodden  field.  It  was  a  full-length  portrait, 
life-sized,  and  full  of  fire.  Claudia  stood  and  gazed  upon  it 
with  delight.  She  was  charmed  by  its  beauty  and  by  the  lines 
that  it  brought  distinctly  to  her  recollection.  Whether  this 
was  really  a  faithful  portrait  of  King  James  or  not,  it  certainly 
was  an  accurate  likeness  of  the  hero  described  by  the  poet  •• 

**  The  monarch's  form  was  middle  size; 
For  feat  of  strength  or  exercise 

Shaped  in  proportion  fair; 
And  hazel  was  hi8  eagle  eye, 
And  auburn  of  the  darkest  dye 

His  short  curled  beard  and  hair. 
Light  was  his  footstep  in  the  dance 

And  firm  his  stirrup  in  the  lists; 
And  oh!  he  had  that  merry  glance 

That  seldom  lady's  heart  resists." 

Yes,  there  he  stood  before  her,  pictured  to  the  very  life;  all 
luminous  with  youth  and  love,  chivalry  and  royalty;  bending 
graciously  from  the  canvas,  smiling  upon  the  spectator,  and 
seeming  about  to  step  forward  and  take  her  hand. 

Claudia  turned  away  from  this  picture,  feeling  at  the  same 
moment  both  pleased  and  saddened.  She  had  spent  three 
hours  dreai'iing  amongst  the  ancient  halls  and  bowers  of  Holy- 
rood,  and  now  she  felt  that  it  was  time  for  her  to  return  to  the 
hotel,  especially  as  the  palace  was  beginning  to  be  filled  with  the 
usual  daily  inflowing  of  sight-seers,  and  she  felt  somewhat 
fatigued  and  worried  by  the  crowd. 

So  she  went  out  and  re-entered  her  cab,  and  was  driven  back 
to  the  hotel.  Here  an  unexpected  misfortune  awaited  her.  As 
she  left  the  cab  she  put  her  hand  in  her  pocket  to  take  out  her 
purse  and  pay  the  cabman. 

It  was  gone ! 

She  turned  sick  with  apprehension,  for  the  loss  of  this  purse, 
which  contained  all  the  money  which  she  had  brought  with  her, 
was,  under  the  circumstances,  a  serious  calamity. 

She  hurried  again  into  the  cab  and  searched  it  thoroughly; 
but  no  purse  was  to  be  found. 

Then  the  truth  burst  upon  her;  she  had  been  robbed  of  it  by 
someone  in  the  crowd  of  visitors  in  Holyrood  Palace;  her 
pocket  had  probably  been  picked  while  ?he  stood  in  the  picture 
gallery  dreaming  before  the  portrait  of  King  James.  How  she 
reproached  herself  for  her  carelessness  in  taking  so  considerable 
an  amount  of  money  with  her. 


THE   COUNTESS   OF   HUKSTMONCEUX.  26** 

She  was  excessively  agitated;  but  she  managed  to  control 
herself  sufficiently  to  speak  calmly  to  the  waiter,  and  say : 

"  Be  good  enough  to  pay  this  man  and  put  the  item  in  my 
bill." 

The  waiter  obeyed  and  discharged  the  cab ;  for,  of  course,  the 
name  of  Lady  Vincent  was  as  yet  a  passport  to  credit.  Then 
she  hurried  to  her  room  in  a  state  of  great  agitation  that  nearly 
deprived  her  of  all  power  to  think  or  act.  She  rang  the  bell, 
which  brought  a  waiter  to  her  presence. 

"  I  would  like  to  see  the  landlord  of  this  hotel,"  she  said. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  my  lady,  but  the  proprietor  lives  out 
of  town,"  returned  the  man. 

"  Then  send  the  clerk  of  the  house,  or  the  head  waiter,  or 
whoever  is  in  charge  here." 

"  I  will  send  the  clerk,  my  lady,"  said  the  waiter,  retiring. 

The  clerk  soon  made  his  appearance. 

"  Sir,"  said  Claudia,  "  I  sent  for  you  to  say,  that  while 
I  was  seeing  Holyrood  Palace,  this  forenoon,  my  pocket  was 
picked  of  my  purse,  which  contained  a  considerable  amount  of 
money;  and  I  wish  to  ask  you  what  steps  I  should  take  for  ite 
recovery  ? " 

"  Have  you  any  idea  of  the  sort  of  person  that  robbed  you, 
my  lady?" 

"  Not  the  slightest ;  all  I  know  is  that  I  had  the  purse  with 
me  when  I  paid  the  guide  on  entering  the  palace,  and  then  I 
missed  it  when  I  reached  home;  and  all  I  suspect  is  that  it 
was  purloined  from  me  while  I  was  in  the  picture  gallery,  stand 
ing  before  the  portrait  of  James  IV." 

"  In  what  form  was  the  money,  my  lady  ? " 

"  Five  and  ten  pound  Bank  of  England  notes." 

"  Were  the  numbers  taken  ? " 

"  Oh,  no ;  I  never  thought  of  taking  the  numbers." 

"  Then,  my  lady,  I  very  much  fear  that  it  will  be  difficult 
or  impossible  to  recover  the  money.  However,  I  will  send  for  a 
detective,  and  we  will  make  an  effort." 

"  Do,  sir,  if  you  please." 

The  clerk  retired. 

In  a  few  moments  Detective  Ogilvie  waited  on  Lady  Vin 
cent,  and  received  her  statement  in  regard  to  the  robbery,  prom 
ised  to  take  prompt  measures  for  the  discovery  of  the  thief, 
and  retired. 

Then  suddenly  Claudia  remembered  her  letter  to  her  father 


268  SELF-RAISED  ;   OB,  FROM   THE   DEPTHS. 

It  was  now  near  the  close  of  the  short  winter  day.  Her  inter 
view  with  the  detective  had  occupied  her  so  long  that  she  had 
barely  time  to  scribble  and  send  off  the  few  urgent  lines  with 
which  the  reader  is  already  acquainted.  Then  she  dined  aud 
resigned  herself  to  repose  for  the  remainder  of  the  evening. 

While  she  sat  in  her  easy-chair  luxuriating  in  indolence  and 
solitude  before  the  glowing  fire,  the  thought  suddenly  occurred 
to  her  that  she  was  not  really  so  badly  off  as  the  loss  of  her  purse 
had  first  led  her  to  suppose.  She  recollected  that  she  had  sev 
eral  costly  rings  upon  her  fingers;  diamonds,  rubies,  and  emer 
alds — the  least  valuable  of  which  was  worth  more  than  the  purse 
of  money  which  had  been  stolen  from  her;  and  if  she  should 
be  driven  to  extremity  she  could  part  with  one  of  these  rings; 
but  then,  on  calm  consideration  of  the  subject,  she  had  really 
no  fears  of  being  driven  to  extremity.  She  was  Lady  Vincent, 
and  her  credit  was  as  yet  intact  before  the  world.  This  was  a 
first-class  hotel,  and  would  supply  her  with  all  that  she  might  re 
quire  for  the  month  that  must  intervene  before  her  father's 
arrival. 

She  would  spend  this  interval  in  seeing  Edinboro'  and  its 
environs,  and  when  her  father  should  come  she  would  persuade 
him  to  take  her  to  the  Continent,  and  afterwards  carry  her  back 
to  her  native  country,  and  to  her  childhood's  home,  to  pass  the 
remainder  of  her  life  in  peace  and  quietness. 

Dreaming  over  this  humble  prospect  for  the  future,  Claudia 
retired  to  bed,  and  slept  well. 

The  next  morning,  as  soon  as  she  had  breal  :f  asted,  she  ordered 
a  carriage  from  the  stables  connected  with  the  hotel  and  drove 
to  Edinboro'  Castle,  where  she  spent  two  or  three  hours  among 
its  royal  halls  and  bowers,  dreaming  over  the  monuments  of 
the  past. 

She  lingered  in  the  little  cell-like  stone  chamber  where 
Queen  Mary  had  given  birth  to  her  son,  afterwards  James  VI. 
She  read  the  pathetic  prayer  carved  on  the  stone  tablet  above 
the  bedstead,  and  said  to  have  been  composed  by  the  unhappy 
queen  in  behalf  of  her  newborn  infant. 

In  the  great  hall  of  the  castle  she  paused  long  before  a  beau 
tiful  portrait  of  Mary  Stuart,  that  was  brought  from  Paris, 
where  it  had  been  painted,  and  which  represented  the  young 
queen  in  her  earliest  womanhood,  when  she  was  the  Dauphiness 
of  France.  And  Claudia  thought  that  this  portrait  was  the 
only  one,  among  all  that  she  had  ever  seen  of  Mary  Stuart, 


THE   COUNTESS    OF   HURSTMONCEUX.  269 

which  came  up  to  her  ideal  of  that  royal  beauty,  who  was  even 
more  a  queen  of  hearts  than  of  kingdoms. 

At  length,  weary  of  sight-seeing,  she  re-entered  her  carriage 
and  returned  home.  While  she  was  in  her  bedchamber  taking 
off  her  bonnet,  a  card  was  brought  to  her. 

"  This  must  be  a  mistake — this  cannot  be  for  me;  I  have  no 
acquaintances  in  the  town,"  she  said,  without  taking  the  trouble 
to  glance  at  the  card. 

"  I  beg  your  ladyship's  pardon,  but  the  countess  inquired  par 
ticularly  for  Lady  Vincent,"  replied  the  waiter  who  had  brought 
the  card. 

"  The  countess  ? "  repeated  Claudia,  and  she  took  it  up  and 
read  the  lightly  penciled  name : 

"  Berenice,  Countess  of  Hurstmonceux." 

"  Say  to  Lady  Hurstmonceux  that  I  will  be  with  her  in  a  few 
minutes,"  said  Claudia. 

"  '  Berenice,  Countess  of  Hurstmonceux,'  "  she  repeated  when 
the  man  had  retired ;  "  that  is  the  widow  of  the  late  earl,  and  the 
forsaken  wife  of  Herman  Brudenell.  What  on  earth  brings 
her  here?  And  how  did  she  know  of  my  presence  in  the  city, 
and  even  in  this  house?  However,  I  shall  know  soon,  I  sup 
pose." 

And  so  saying,  Claudia  made  a  few  changes  in  her  toilet, 
and  went  into  the  parlor. 

Standing,  looking  from  the  window,  was  a  lady  dressed  in  a 
black  velvet  bonnet  and  plumes,  a  black  silk  gown,  and  a  large 
sable  cloak  and  muff. 

As  Claudia  entered,  this  lady  turned  around  and  lifted  her 
veil,  revealing  a  beautiful,  pale  face,  with  large,  deep-fringed, 
mournful  dark  eyes,  and  soft,  rippling,  jet-black  hair.  At  the 
first  glance  Claudia  was  touched  by  the  pensive  beauty  of  that 
lovely  face. 

Yes!  at  the  age  of  forty-five  the  Countess  of  Hurstmonceux 
was  still  beautiful.  She  had  passed  a  serene  life,  free  alike 
from  carking  cares  and  fashionable  excesses,  and  so  her  beauty 
had  been  well  preserved.  It  would  have  taken  a  keen  observer 
to  have  detected  the  few  wrinkles  that  had  gathered  in  the  cor 
ners  of  her  fine  eyes  and  plump  lips,  or  to  have  found  out  the 
still  fewer  silver  threads  that  lay  hidden  here  and  there  among 
her  dark  tresses. 

Claudia  advanced  to  greet  her,  holding  out  her  hand,  and 
saying : 


270  SELF-RAISED  ;   OR,    FROM   THE   DEPTHS. 

"  The  Countess  of  Hurstmonceux,  I  presume  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  visitor,  with  a  sweet  smile. 

"  I  am  Lady  Vincent ;  and  very  happy  to  see  you.  Pray  be 
seated,"  said  Claudia,  drawing  forward  a  chair  for  her  visitor. 

"  My  dear  Lady  Vincent,  I  only  learned  this  morning  of  your 
arrival  in  town,  and  presuming  upon  my  slight  connection  with 
the  family  of  the  present  Earl  of  Hurstmonceux,  I  have  ven 
tured  to  call  on  you  and  claim  a  sort  of  relationship,"  said 
Berenice  kindly. 

"Your  ladyship  is  very  good,  and  I  am  very  glad  to  see 
you,"  said  Claudia  cordially.  Then  suddenly  recollecting  her 
own  cruel  position,  and  feeling  too  proud  as  well  as  too  honest 
to  appear  under  false  colors,  she  blushed,  and  said : 

"  I  cannot  think  how  your  ladyship  could  know  that  I  was 
here;  but  I  am  sure  that  when  you  did  me  this  honor  of  calling, 
you  did  not  know  the  circumstances  under  which  I  left  Castle 
Cragg." 

A  tide  of  crimson  swept  over  the  pale  face  of  Berenice;  it 
arose  for  Claudia,  not  for  herself,  and  she  replied : 

"  My  dear,  wronged  lady,  I  know  it  all." 

"  You  know  all — all  that  they  allege  against  me,  and  you 
call  me  wronged  ? "  exclaimed  Claudia,  in  pleased  surprise. 

"  I  know  all  that  they  allege  against  you,  and  I  believe  you 
to  be  wronged.  Therefore,  my  dear,  I  have  come  to-day  to  offer 
you  all  the  service  in  my  power,"  said  Berenice  sweetly. 

Claudia  suddenly  caught  her  hand  and  clasped  it  fervently. 

"  And  now,  my  dear  Lady  Vincent,  will  you  permit  me  to 
explain  myself  and  inform  you  how  I  became  acquainted 
with  the  circumstances  of  your  departure  from  Castle  Cragg, 
and  your  arrival  at  this  house  ? "  inquired  Berenice. 

"Oh,  do!  do!"  replied  Claudia. 

"  You  must  know,  then,  that  a  few  of  my  old  domestics,  who 
served  the  late  earl  and  myself  while  we  lived  at  Castle  Cragg, 
still  remain  there  in  the  service  of  the  present  earl's  family, 
which  is  always  represented  at  the  castle  by  Lord  Vincent. 
Among  them  there  are  two  who,  it  appears,  became  very  much 
attached  to  your  ladyship.  I  allude  to  the  housekeeper,  Jean 
Murdock,  and  the  major-domo,  Cuthbert  Allan." 

"Yes,  they  were  very  kind;  but,  after  all,  it  was  old  Cuth 
bert  who  sent  that  note  to  Lord  Vincent,  which  brought  him 
from  the  play  at  midnight  to  burst  into  my  room  and  find  hia 
wretched  valet  hidden  there,"  replied  Claudia  gravely. 


THE   COUNTESS   OF   HURSTMONCEUX.  271 

"Yes;  Cuthbert  saw  the  valet  steal  into  your  Toom  and  sent 
word  to  his  master,  as  in  duty  bound.  But,  after  witnessing 
the  scene  of  his  discovery,  Cuthbert's  mind  instantly  cleared 
your  ladyship  of  suspicion  and  rushed  to  the  conclusion  that 
the  miserable  valet  concealed  himself  in  your  boudoir 
unknown  to  you  and  for  the  purpose  of  robbery.  I,  for 
my  part,  believe  he  was  placed  there  with  the  connivance  of 
Lord  Vincent,  and  that  old  Cuthbert  was  made  to  play  a  blind 
part  in  that  conspiracy." 

"  I  knew,  of  course,  that  it  was  a  conspiracy,  but  really  won 
dered  to  find  the  honest  old  man  in  it." 

"  He  was  a  blind  tool  in  their  hands.  But  I  was  about  to 
tell  you  how  the  facts  of  your  departure  from  the  castle  and 
your  arrival  in  this  hotel  came  to  my  knowledge.  In  brief, 
I  received  a  letter  from  old  Cuthbert  this  morning,  in  which  ho 
related  the  whole  history  of  the  affair,  as  it  was  known  to  him. 
He  expressed  great  sorrow  for  the  part  he  had  been  obliged 
to  bear  in  the  business,  and  the  most  respectful  sympathy  for 
your  ladyship.  He  said  his  '  heart  was  sair  for  the  bonnie 
leddy  sae  far  frae  a'  her  friends  and  living  her  lane  in  Edin- 
boro'  toun.'  And  he  begged  me  to  find  you  out  and  protect 
you.  To  this  letter  was  added  a  postscript  by  Jean  Murdock. 
It  was  a  warm,  humble,  respectful  encomium  upon  your  lady 
ship,  in  which  she  joined  her  prayers  to  those  of  Cuthbert  that 
that  I  would  seek  you  out  and  succor  you." 

As  Berenice  spoke,  blushes  dyed  the  cheeks  of  Claudia,  and 
tears  dropped  from  her  eyes.  She  was  softened  by  the  kindness 
of  those  two  old  people,  and  their  patronage  humiliated  her. 

Something  of  the  nature  of  her  emotions  the  countess  must 
have  divined,  for  she  took  the  hand  of  Claudia  and  said: 

"  Believe  me,  dear  Lady  Vincent,  I  did  not  need  urging  to 
come  to  you.  I  needed  only  to  know  that  you  were  in  town  and 
alone.  As  soon  as  I  read  the  letters  I  sent  for  the  morning 
paper  to  look  for  the  arrivals  at  the  various  hotels,  to  see  if  I 
could  find  your  name  among  them.  I  could  not,  and  so  I  was 
about  to  lay  aside  the  paper  and  send  for  the  one  of  the  day 
before,  when  my  eye  happened  to  light  on  a  paragraph  in  which 
I  found  your  name.  It  was  the  robbery  of  your  purse  at  Holy- 
rood  Palace.  There  I  learned  your  address.  And  I  came  away 
here  immediately." 

Claudia's  fingers  tightened  on  the  hand  of  the  countess  which 
she  still  retained  in  hers. 


272        SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

"  How  much  I  thank  you,  Lady  Hurstmonceux,  you  can  nevei 
know;  because  you  have  never  felt  what  it  is  to  be  a  stranger 
in  a  foreign  country,  with  your  fame  traduced  and  not  one 
friend  to  stand  by  your  side  and  sustain  you,"  she  said. 

Again  that  crimson  tide  swept  over  the  pale  face  of  Bere 
nice;  but  this  time  it  was  for  herself,  and  she  answered: 

"  Oh,  yes,  yes !  I  have  known  just  that.  Ten  years  in  a  for 
eign  country,  forsaken,  shunned,  traduced,  without  one  friend 

to  speak  comfort  to  an  almost  breaking  heart It  is  past. 

I  have  overlived  it.  The  God  of  my  fathers  has  sustained  me. 
Let  us  speak  no  more  of  it."  And  crimson  as  she  had  been  for 
a  moment  she  was  as  pale  as  marble  now. 

Claudia  laid  her  hand  caressingly  upon  the  shoulder  of 
Berenice  and  looked  in  her  face  with  that  mute  sympathy 
which  is  more  effective  than  eloquent  words.  Something,  in 
deed,  she  had  heard  of  this  before,  but  the  rumor  had  left  no 
impression  on  her  mind;  though  she  blamed  herself  now  for 
the  momentary  forgetfulness. 

*Let  us  speak  of  yourself  and  your  plans  for  the  future," 
said  the  countess. 

"  My  plans  are  simple  enough.  I  have  written  to  my  father. 
I  shall  remain  here  until  his  arrival,"  said  Claudia. 

There  was  a  pause  between  them  for  a  few  minutes,  during 
which  the  countess  seemed  in  deep  thought,  and  then  this 
Btill  beautiful  woman,  smiling,  said: 

"I  am  old  enough  to  be  your  mother,  Lady  Vincent,  and  in 
the  absence  of  your  father,  I  hope  you  will  trust  yourself  to 
my  guardianship.  It  is  not  well,  under  present  circumstances, 
that  you  should  remain  alone  at  a  public  hotel.  Come  with  me 
and  be  my  guest  at  Cameron  Court.  It  is  a  pretty  place,  near 
Roslyn  Castle,  and  despite  all  the  evil  in  the  hearts  of  men,  I 
think  I  can  make  your  visit  there  pleasant  and  interesting." 

Claudia  burst  into  tears;  the  proud  Claudia  was  softened, 
almost  humbled  by  this  unexpected  kindness. 

"God  bless  you! "  was  all  that  she  could  say.  "I  will  gladly 
go." 

"I  am  your  mother,  in  the  meantime,  Claudia,  you  know," 
Baid  Lady  Hurstmonceux,  touching  the  bell. 

"  You  are  my  guardian  angel !  "  sobbed  Claudia. 

"  Lady  Vincent's  bill,  if  you  please,"  said  the  countess  to  the 
waiter  who  answered  the  bell,  and  who  immediately  bowed  and 
disappeared. 


THE    RESCUE.  273 

But  Claudia  grasped  the  arm  of  the  countess  and  exclaimed 
in  alarm: 

"I  had  forgotten.  I  cannot  leave  the  hotel  yet,  because  I 
cannot  pay  the  bill.  My  lost  purse  contained  all  the  money 
that  I  brought  from  Castle  Cragg." 

"  What  of  that  ?  I  am  your  mother,  Claudia,  until  you  hear 
from  your  father;  and  your  banker  until  you  recover  your 
money.  Now,  my  dear,  go  put  on  your  bonnet,  while  I  settle 
with  the  waiter.  My  carriage  is  at  the  door,  and  we  will  go 
at  once.  I  will  send  my  own  maid  in  a  fly  to  pack  up  your 
effects  and  bring  them  after  us." 

"  How  much  my  father  will  thank  and  bless  you !  "  said  Clau 
dia,  as  she  left  the  room  to  prepare  herself. 

Lady  Hurstmonceux  paid  the  bill,  and  left  half  a  sovereign 
in  the  hands  of  the  chambermaid,  bidding  her  take  care  of  Lady 
Vincent's  effects  until  they  should  be  sent  for. 

And  when  Claudia  came  out,  equipped  for  her  ride,  they  went 
below  stairs. 

A  handsome  brougham,  painted  dark  green,  drawn  by  fine 
gray  horses,  with  silver  mountings  on  their  harness  and  with  a 
coachman  and  footman  in  gray-and-green  livery  stood  before 
the  door. 

And  the  countess  and  her  protegee  entered  it  and  were  driven 
towards  the  Cameron  Court. 

CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

THE  RESCUE. 

The  tide  has  ebbed  away; 

No  more  wild  surging  'gainst  the  adamant  rocks, 
No  swayings  of  the  sea-weed  false  that  mocks 

The  hues  of  gardens  gay; 

No  laugh  of  little  wavelets  at  their  play ! 
No  lucid  pools  reflecting  Heaven's  brow — 
Both  storm  and  cloud  alike  are  ended  now. 

The  gray,  bare  rocks  sit  lone; 
The  shifting  sand  lies  so  smooth  and  dry 
That  not  a  wave  might  ever  have  swept  by 

To  vex  it  with  loud  moan. 

Only  some  weedy  fragments  blackening  grown 
To  dry  beneath  the  sky,  tells  what  has  been; 
But  desolation's  self  has  grown  serene. 

— Anon. 

We  must  now  relate  what  happened  to  Ishmael  and  his  com 
panions  after  they  were  deserted  by  the  lifeboats.  When  they 


274    SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

were  out  of  sight  he  dropped  his  eyes  and  bent  his  head  In 
prayer  for  himself  and  his  fellow-sufferers,  and  thus  awaited 
his  fate. 

But,  oh,  Heaven  of  heavens!  what  is  this?    Is  it  death,  or 
',— life? 

I  The  wreck  that  had  been  whirling  violently  around  at  the 
.mercy  of  the  furious  sea  was  now  lifted  high  upon  the  crest 
of  a  wave  and  cast  further  up  upon  the  reef,  where  she  rested 
in  comparative  safety. 

So  suddenly  and  easily  had  this  been  done  that  it  was  some 
minutes  before  the  shipwrecked  men  could  understand  that  they 
were  for  the  present  respited  from  death. 

It  was  Ishmael  who  now  inspired  and  confirmed  their  hopes. 

"Friends,"  he  exclaimed,  in  a  deep,  earnest,  solemn  voice, 
as  he  looked  around  upon  them,  "let  us  return  thanks  to  the 
Lord,  for  we  are  saved ! " 

"  Yes ;  saved  from  immediate  death  by  drowning,  but  per 
haps  not  saved  from  a  slow  death  of  starvation,"  observed  a 
"  doubting  Thomas  "  of  their  number. 

"  The  Lord  never  mocks  his  servants  with  false  hopes.  We 
are  saved ! "  repeated  Ishmael  emphatically,  but  with  the  deep 
est  reverence. 

For  some  hours  longer  the  wind  raved  and  the  sea  roared 
around  the  wreck;  but  even  the  highest  waves  could  not  now 
wash  over  it.  As  the  sun  arose  the  mist  cleared  away  and 
the  wreck  gradually  dried.  About  noon  the  sea  began  to  sub 
side.  And  at  sunset  all  was  calm  and  clear. 

Ishmael  and  his  companions  now  suffered  from  only  two 
causes — hunger  and  cold — the  sharpest  hunger  and  the  most 
intense  cold ;  for  every  single  atom  and  article  that  could  be  pos 
sibly  used  for  food  or  covering  had  been  washed  out  of  the 
wreck  and  swept  off  to  sea.  And  all  day  long  they  had  been 
fasting  and  exposed  to  all  the  inclemency  of  that  severe  season 
and  climate.  And  during  the  ensuing  night  they  were  in  dan 
ger  of  death  from  starvation  or  freezing.  But  tbey  huddled 
closely  together  and  tried  to  keep  life  within  them  by  their 
mutual  animal  heat;  while  Ishmael,  himself  confident  of  timely 
rescue,  kept  up  their  hopes. 

It  was  a  long  and  trying  night.  But  it  ended  at  last.  Day 
dawned;  the  sun  arose. 

Then  Ishmael  saw  some  fragments  of  the  wreck  that  had  been 
tossed  upon  the  rocks  and  left  there  by  the  retiring  waves. 


THE   RESCUE.  275 

Among  them  was  a  long  spar.  This  he  directed  the  men  to 
drag  up  upon  the  deck.  The  men,  who  were  weak  from  hunger 
and  numb  from  cold,  could  scarcely  find  power  to  obey  this  order. 
But  when  they  did,  Ishmael  took  off  his  own  shirt  and  fastened 
it  to  the  end  of  the  spar,  which  he  immediately  set  up  in  its 
position  as  a  flag-staff.  They  had  no  glass,  and  therefore  could 
riot  sweep  the  horizon  in  search  of  a  sail.  But  Ishmael  had 
an  eagle's  piercing  glance,  and  his  fine  eyes  traveled  continually 
over  the  vast  expanse  of  waters  in  the  hope  of  approaching 
rescue. 

At  last  he  cried  out : 

"  A  sail  from  the  eastward,  friends !  " 

"  Hurrah !  but  are  you  sure,  sir  ? "  broke  from  half  a  dozen 
lips,  as  all  hands,  forgetting  cold  and  hunger,  weakness  and 
Btiffness,  sprang  upon  their  feet  and  strained  their  eyeballs 
in  search  of  the  sail;  which  they  could  not  yet  discern. 

"  Are  you  quite  certain,  sir  ? "  someone  anxiously  inquired. 

"  Quite.    I  see  her  very  plainly." 

"  But  if  she  should  not  see  our  signal ! "  groaned  "  doubting 
Thomas." 

"  She  sees  it.  She  is  bearing  rapidly  down  upon  us ! "  ex 
claimed  Ishmael. 

"  I  see  her  now ! "  cried  one  of  the  men. 

"  And  so  do  I !  "  said  another. 

"  And  so  do  I !  "  added  a  third. 

"  She  is  not  a  sail-boat,  she  is  a  steamer,"  said  a  fourth,  aa 
the  ship  came  rapidly  towards  the  wreck. 

"  She  is  the  '  Santiago,'  of  Havana,"  said  Ishmael,  as  she 
steamed  on  and  came  within  hailing  distance. 

Then  she  stopped,  blew  off  her  steam,  and  sent  out  a  boat. 
While  it  was  cleaving  the  distance  between  the  ship  and  the 
rocks  a  man  on  the  deck  of  the  former  shouted  through  his 
'trumpet : 
,    "Wreck  ahoy!" 

"  Aye,  aye ! "  responded  Ishmael,  with  all  the  strength  of  his 
powerful  lungs. 

"All  safe  with  you?" 

"All  safe!" 

As  the  boat  was  pushed  up  .as  near  as  it  could  with  safety  be 
brought  to  the  wreck,  the  frozen  and  famished  men  began  to 
climb  down  and  drop  into  it.  When  they  were  all  in,  even  to 
the  professor,  Ishmael  stepped  down  and  took  his  place  among 


276         SELF-RAISED;  OK,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

them  with  a  smile  of  joy  and  a  deep  throb  of  gratitude  to  God 
For,  ah!  the  strong  young  man  had  loved  that  joyous  and 
powerful  life  which  he  had  been  so  prompt  to  offer  up  on  the 
Ghrine  of  duty;  and  he  was  glad  and  thankful  to  return  to 
life,  to  work,  to  fame,  to  love,  to  Bee! 

The  boatmen  laid  themselves  to  their  oars  and  pulled  vigor 
ously  for  the  steamer.  They  were  soon  alongside, 

The  men  made  a  rush  for  her  decks.  They  wanted  to  be 
warmed  and  fed.  Ishmael  let  them  all  go  before  him,  and  then 
he  followed  and  stepped  upon  the  steamer. 

And  the  next  moment  he  found  himself  seized  and  clasped 
in  the  embrace  of — Mr.  Brudenell ! 

"  Oh,  my  son,  my  brave  and  noble  son,  you  are  saved !  God 
is  kinder  to  me  than  I  deserve ! "  he  cried 

"  One  moment,  Brudenell !  Oh,  Ishmael,  thank  Heaven,  you 
are  safe ! "  fervently  exclaimed  another  voice — that  of  Judge 
Merlin,  who  now  came  forward  and  warmly  shook  his  hand. 

"  Ant  dere  ish — von  more — drue  shentlemans — in  te  vorlt !  " 
sobbed  the  German  Jew,  seizing  and  pressing  one  of  Ishmael's 
hands. 

Captain  Mountz,  Doctor  Kerr,  and  in  fact  all  Ishmael's  late 
fellow-passengers,  now  crowded  around  with  earnest  and  even 
tearful  congratulations. 

And  meanwhile  dry  clothes  and  warm  food  and  drink  were 
prepared  for  the  shipwrecked  passengers.  And  it  was  not  until 
Ishmael  had  changed  his  raiment  and  eaten  a  comfortable 
breakfast  that  he  was  permitted  to  hear  an  explanation  of  the 
unexpected  appearance  of  his  friends  upon  the  deck  of  the 
steamer. 

It  happened  that  the  passengers  in  the  lifeboats,  after  suffer 
ing  severely  with  cold  and  with  the  dread  of  a  slow  death  from 
exposure  for  twelve  hours,  were  at  last  picked  up  by  the 
"  Santiago,"  a  Spanish  steamer  bound  for  Havana.  That  after 
thei»  wants  had  been  relieved  by  the  captain  of  the  "  Santiago  " 
they  had  told  him  of  the  imminently  perilous  condition  in 
which  they  had  left  the  remnant  of  the  crew  and  passengers. 
And  the  captain  had  altered  the  course  of  the  ship  in  the 
forlorn  hope  of  yet  rescuing  those  forsaken  men.  And  the 
Lord  had  blessed  his  efforts  with  success.  Such  was  the  story 
told  by  Mr.  Brudenell  and  Judge  Merlin  to  Ishmael. 

"But,  oh,  my  dear  boy,  what  a  fatal  delay!  Just  think  of 
it!  This  steamer  is  bound  for  Havana.  And  this  very  day, 


THE   RESCUE.  277 

when  we  ought  to  be  landing  on  the  shores  of  England,  we  find 
ourselves  steaming  in  an  opposite  direction  for  the  West  India 
Islands,"  said  Judge  Merlin. 

"  Oh,  sir,  trust  still  in  Heaven,"  answered  Ishmael.  "  Think 
how  marvelously  the  Lord  has  delivered  us  from  danger  and 
death!  This  very  delay  that  seems  so  fatal  may  be  absolutely 
necessary  to  our  final  success." 

The  words  of  Ishmael  proved  prophetic.  For  had  it  not  been 
for  their  shipwreck  and  the  consequent  alteration  in  their 
course,  their  voyage  to  England  would  have  been  taken  in 
vain. 

The  "  Santiago "  steamed  her  way  southward,  and  in  due 
course  of  time,  without  the  least  misadventure,  reached  the  port 
of  Havana. 

It  was  Sunday,  the  first  of  January,  when  they  arrived. 

"We  shall  have  no  trouble  with  the  Custom  House  officers 
here,"  laughed  Ishmael,  as  he  gave  his  arm  to  Judge  Merlin 
and  went  on  shore,  leaving  all  the  passengers  who  had  not 
been  shipwrecked,  and  lost  their  luggage,  to  pass  the  ordeal  he 
and  his  friends  had  escaped. 

They  went  at  once  to  the  hotel  which  had  been  recommended 
to  them  by  the  captain  of  the  "  Santiago." 

And  as  this  was  Sunday,  and  there  was  no  English  Protest 
ant  church  open,  they  passed  the  day  quietly  within  doors. 

On  Monday  Judge  Merlin's  first  care  was  to  go  to  the  Ameri 
can  consul  and  get  the  latter  to  accompany  him  to  a  banker, 
from  whom  he  procured  the  funds  he  required  in  exchange  for 
drafts  upon  his  own  ISTew  York  bankers. 

While  Judge  Merlin  was  gone  upon  this  errand  Ishmael  went 
down  to  the  harbor  to  make  inquiries  as  to  what  ships  were 
to  sail  in  the  course  of  the  week  for  Europe. 

He  found  that  he  had  a  choice  between  two.  The  "  Mary," 
an  English  sailing  ship,  would  leave  on  Wednesday  for  London. 
And  the  "  Cadiz,"  a  screw  steamer,  would  sail  on  Saturday  for 
the  port  whose  name  she  bore. 

Ishmael  mentally  gave  preference  to  the  swift  and  sure 
steamer,  rather  than  the  uncertain  sailing  packet;  but  he  felt 
bound  to  refer  the  matter  to  Judge  Merlin  before  finally  de 
ciding  upon  it. 

With  this  purpose  he  left  the  harbor  and  entered  the  city.  He 
was  passing  up  one  of  the  narrow  granite-paved  streets  in  the 
neighborhood  of  the  grand  cathedral  where  lie  the  ashes  of 


278  SELF-RAISED  ;   OR,    FROM   TIIE   DEPTHS. 

Columbus,  when  he  was  startled  by  hearing  quick  and  heavy 
footsteps  and  a  panting,  eager  voice  behind  him: 

"Marse  Ishmael!  Marse  Ishmael  Worth!  Oh,  is  it  you, 
sir,  dropped  from  the  clouds  to  save  me!  Marse  Ishmael!  Oh, 
stop,  sir !  Oh,  for  de  Lord's  sake,  stop !  " 

Ishmael  started  and  turned  around,  and,  to  his  inexpressible 
amazement,  stood  face  to  face  with  old  Katie. 

"  Oh,  Marse  Ishmael,  honey,  is  dis  you  ?  Is  dis  indeed  you, 
or  only  de  debbil  deceiving  of  me ! "  she  exclaimed,  panting 
for  breath  as  she  caught  him  by  the  greatcoat,  and  grasping 
him  as  the  drowning  grasp  a  saving  plank. 

"  Katie !  "  exclaimed  Ishmael,  in  immeasurable  astonishment. 

"Yes,  honey,  it's  Katie.  Yes,  my  dear  chile,  ole  Katie  an* 
no  ghose,  nor  likewise  sperit,  dough  you  might  think  I  is !  But 
oh,  Marse  Ishmael!  is  you,  you?  Is  you  reely  an'  truly  you, 
and  no,  no  'ception  ob  de  debbil?" 

"  Katie ! "  repeated  Ishmael,  unable  to  realize  the  fact  of 
her  presence. 

"Hi!  what  I  tell  you?  Oh,  Marse  Ishmael,  chile,  don't  go 
for  to  'ny  your  old  Aunt  Katie,  as  nussed  you  good  when  you 
lay  out  dere  for  dead  at  Tanglewood !  don't !  "  said  the  poor 
creature,  clinging  to  his  coat. 

"  Katie !  "  reiterated  Ishmael,  unable  to  utter  another  word. 

"  Laws  a  massy  upon  top  of  me,  yes !  I  keep  on  telling  you, 
chile,  I  is  Katie!  don't  'ny  me;  don't  'ny  me  in  my  'stress, 
Marse  Ishmael,  if  ebber  you  'spects  to  see  hebben !  "  she  said, 
beginning  to  cry. 

"  I  do  not  deny  you,  Katie ;  but  I  am  lost  in  amazement.  How 
on  earth  came  you  here  ? "  asked  Ishmael,  staring  at  her. 

"  I  didn't  come  on  earth  at  all.  I  come  by  de  sea.  Oh, 
Marse  Ishmael !  I  done  died  since  I  lef '  you !  done  died  and 
gone  to  the  debbil !  been  clar  down  dar  in  his  place,  which  it  aintj 
'spectable  to  name!  done  died  and  gone  dere  and  come  to  life 
again,  on  a  ship  at  sea." 

"Who  brought  you  here,  Katie?"  questioned  Ishmael,  thor 
oughly  perplexed. 

"  De  debbil,  honey !  de  debbil,  chile !  Sure  as  you  lib  it  was 
,de  debbil!  Oh,  Marse  Ishmael,  honey,  stop  long  o'  me!  Don't 
go  leabe  me,  chile,  don't!  Now  de  Lor'  has  sent  you  to  me, 
don't  go  leabe  me.  You  is  all  de  hopes  I  has  in  de  world ! " 
she  cried,  clinging  with  desperate  perseverance  to  his  coat. 

"  I  will  not  leave  you,  Katie.    I  have  not  the  least  intention 


THE    EESCUE.  279 

of  doing  so.  But  all  this  is  quite  incomprehensible.  Where  is 
your  mistress?  She  is  never  here?"  said  Ishmael. 

"I  dunno.  I  dunno  nuffin  'bout  my  poor  dear  babyship — • 
ladyship,  I  mean;  only  my  head  is  so  'fused!  Oh,  lor',  don't 
go  break  away  from  me !  don't,  Marse  Ishmael !  " 

"I  will  not  desert  you,  Katie,  be  assured  that  I  will  not; 
but  let  go  my  coat  and  try  to  compose  yourself.  Don't  you  see 
that  you  are  collecting  a  crowd  around  us  ? "  expostulated 
Ishmael. 

But  Katie  hung  fast,  saying: 

"  'Deed  I  can't!  'Deed  I  can't,  Marse  Ishmael!  If  I  let 
go  of  you  I  shall  wake  up  an'  find  you  is  all  a  dream,  an'  I'll 
be  as  bad  off  as  ebber,"  persisted  Katie,  taking  Ishmael  more 
firmly  into  custody  than  ever. 

He  laughed;  he  could  not  help  laughing  at  the  ludicrous 
desperation  of  his  captor.  But  his  astonishment  and  wonder 
were  unabated;  and  he  saw  that  Katie  could  not  give  a  lucid 
explanation  of  her  presence  on  the  island,  or  at  least  not  until 
her  excitement  should  have  time  to  subside. 

Besides  the  crowd  of  negroes,  mulattoes,  and  Creoles,  men, 
women,  and  children,  who  had  gathered  around  them,  with  open 
eyes  and  mouths,  was  still  increasing. 

"  Katie,"  he  said,  "  we  cannot  talk  in  the  middle  of  the 
street  with  all  these  people  staring  at  us.  So  come  with " 

"  Oh,  lor',  Marse  Ishmael,"  interrupted  Katie,  "  don't  you 
mind  dese  poor  trash !  Dey  can't  speak  one  word  o'  good  Chris 
tian  talk,  nor  likewise  understand  a  Christian  no  mor'n  dumb 
brutes.  Dey  is  no  better  nor  barbariums,  wid  dere  o's  and  ro's 
ebery  odder  word.  Don't  mind  dem  herrin's." 

"But,  Katie,  they  have  eyes.  Come  with  me  to  the  hotel. 
You  will  find  your  old  master  there." 

"  Who  ?  My  ole "  began  Katie,  opening  her  mouth,  which 

remained  open  as  if  incapable  of  closing  again,  much  less  of 
tittering  another  syllable. 

"  Yes,  Judge  Merlin  is  here." 

"My  ole Well,  Lor' I" 

"Come,  Katie." 

"My  ole If  ebber  I  heard  de  like!  What  de  name  o1 

sense  he  doin'  here  ?  An'  same  time,  what  you  doin'  here  your 
self,  Marse  Ishmael  ? " 

"  Katie,  it  is  a  long  story.  And  I  fancy  we  both,  you  and  I, 
have  much  to  tell.  Will  you  come  with  me  to  my  hotel  ? " 


280        BELF-KAISED;  OK,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

"Will  I  come,  Marse  Ishmael?  Why  wouldn't  I  come  den? 
Sure  I'll  come.  I  don't  mean  to  do  puffin  else;  nor  likewise  let 
go  of  you,  nor  lose  sight  of  you,  de  longest  day  as  eber  I  lib, 
please  my  'Vine  Marster,  don't  I ;  so  dere ! "  replied  the  old 
creature,  tightening  her  clasp  upon  Ishmael's  coat. 

"  Oh,  Katie,  Katie,  but  that  would  be  too  much  of  a  good 
thing,"  said  Ishmael,  smiling. 

"Dey  done  sent  me  arter  pines.  Fetch  pines!  I  don't  care 
as  ebber  I  see  a  pine  again  as  long  as  ebber  I  lib.  I  gwine  to 

my  own  ole ,  De  Lor' !  but  de  thought  o'  he  being  here !  " 

cried  Katie,  breaking  off  in  the  middle  of  her  speech  again  to 
give  vent  to  her  amazement. 

"  Now,  Katie,  you  must  walk  by  my  side ;  but,  really,  you 
must  let  go  my  coat,"  said  Ishmael  kindly,  but  authoritatively. 

"  If  I  do,  you  promise  me  not  to  run  away  ? "  said  Katie 
half  pleadingly  and  half  threateningly. 

"  Of  course  I  do." 

"  Nor  likewise  wake  me  up  to  find  it  all  a  dream  ? " 

"  Certainly  not,  Katie." 

"Well,  den,  I  trust  you,  Marse  Ishmael — I  trust  you,"  said 
Katie,  releasing  her  hold  on  him.  "  'Dough,  'deed  and  'deed," 
she  added  doubtingly,  "  so  many  queer  things  is  happened  of 

since  I  done  left  my  ole Goodness  gracious  me!  to  think 

o'  he  being  here! — marster;  and  so  many  people  and  so  many 
places  has  'peared  and  dis'peared,  dat,  dere!  I  aint  got  no  con 
ference  in  nothing." 

"I  hope  that  you  will  recover  your  faith  with  your  happi 
ness,  Katie.  And  now  come  on,  my  good  woman,"  said  Ishmael, 
•who  felt  extremely  anxious  to  get  from  her,  as  soon  as  they 
should  reach  the  hotel,  some  explanation  of  her  presence  on 
the  island,  and  some  news  of  her  unfortunate  mistress. 

They  walked  on  as  rapidly  as  the  strength  of  the  old  woman 
•would  allow,  for  Ishmael  would  not  permit  her  to  put  herself 
out  of  breath.  When  they  reached  the  hotel  Ishmael  told 
Katie  to  follow  him,  and  so  led  her  to  her  master's  apartments. 

They  stopped  outside  the  door. 

"You  must  remain  here  until  I  go  in  and  see  if  the  judge 
has  returned  from  his  ride  from  the  bank.  And  if  he  has,  I 
must  prepare  him  for  your  arrival  here;  for  your  master  has 
aged  very  much  since  you  saw  him  last,  Katie,  and  the  sur 
prise  might  hurt  him,"  whispered  Ishmael,  as  he  turned  the 
doorknob  and  went  in. 


THE    RESCUE.  281 

The  judge  had  just  returned.  He  was  seated  at  the  table, 
counting  out  money. 

"  Ha,  Ishmael,  my  boy,  have  you  got  back  ? "  he  asked,  look 
ing  up  from  his  work. 

"  Yes,  sir ;  and  I  have  the  choice  of  two  packets  to  offer  you. 
The  brig  'Mary'  sails  for  London  on  Wednesday;  the  steamer 
'  Cadiz '  sails  for  the  port  of  Cadiz  on  Saturday.  The  choice 
remains  with  you,"  said  Ishmael,  putting  down  his  hat  and 
seating  himself. 

"  Oh,  then  we  will  go  by  the  '  Cadiz ' ;  though  she  sails  at  a 
later  day,  and  for  a  farther  port,  we  shall  reach  our  destination 
sooner,  going  by  her,  than  we  should  to  go  in  a  sailing  packet 
bound  direct  for  London." 

"I  think  so  too,  sir;  there  is  no  certainty  in  the  sailing 
packets.  I  hope  you  succeeded  at  the  bank  ? " 

"  Perfectly ;  our  consul,  Tourneysee,  went  with  me,  to  identify 
me  and  vouch  for  my  solvency,  and  I  got  accommodated  without 
any  difficulty  whatever.  And  now  I  must  insist  upon  being 
banker  for  our  whole  party  until  we  reach  England." 

"  I  thank  you,  sir,  in  behalf  of  my  father  as  well  as  myself," 
said  Ishmael. 

"  Now,  let  me  see — nine  hundred  and  seventy,  eighty,  ninety, 
an  hundred — that  is  one  thousand.  I  will  lay  that  by  itself," 
muttered  the  judge,  still  counting  his  money. 

"  I  met  an  old  acquaintance  down  in  the  city,"  said  Ishmael, 
gradually  feeling  his  way  towards  the  announcement  of  Katie. 

"  Ah ! "  said  the  judge  indifferently,  and  going  on  with  his 
counting. 

"An  old  friend,  indeed,  I  may  say,"  added  Ishmael  em 
phatically. 

"Yes,"  replied  the  judge  absently,  and  continuing  to  count. 

"  Judge  Merlin,"  inquired  Ishmael,  in  a  meaning  tone,  "  have 
you  no  curiosity  to  know  v/ho  it  was  that  I  met  near  the 
quays  ? " 

"No,"  said  the  old  man,  counting  diligently;  "some  fellow 
you  knew  in  Washington,  I  suppose,  my  boy.  Why,  the  Lord 
bless  you,  I  stumbled  over  half  a  dozen  acquaintances  on  my 
way  to  the  consulate  and  the  bank.  Among  them  Frank  Tour 
neysee,  who  is  staying  here  with  his  brother  for  the  benefit  of 
his  health.  He  is  a  consumptive,  poor  man !  crossed  in  love ;  or 
something; 

"  Sir,  it  was  no  casual  acquaintance  or  ordinary  friend  that 


282         SELF- RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

I  met,"  said  Ishmael,  in  so  grave  a  voice  that  the  judge  looked 
up  from  his  work  and  stared  in  wonder,  not  at  the  words,  but 
at  the  manner  of  the  speaker. 

"  It  was  no  man,  but  a  woman,  sir,"  continued  Ishmael, 
fixing  his  eyes  wistfully  upon  the  face  of  the  old  man. 

"  It  was  Claudia ! "  cried  the  judge,  in  an  ear-piercing  voice, 
jumping  at  once  at  the  most  improbable  conclusion,  as  he  started' 
up,  pale  as  death,  and  gazed  with  breathless  anxiety  upon  the 
grave  face  of  Ishmael. 

"  No,  Judge  Merlin,"  answered  the  young  man,  as  he  gently 
replaced  him  in  his  seat ;  "  no,  it  was  not  Lady  Vincent ;  but 
it  is  one  who,  I  hope,  can  give  us  later  news  of  her." 

"  Who — who  was  it  then  ?  "  gasped  the  old  man,  trembling 
violently. 

Ishmael  poured  out  a  glass  of  water  and  handed  it  to  the 
judge,  saying  calmly: 

"  It  was  old  Katie  whom  I  met." 

"  Katie ! "  cried  the  judge,  in  astonishment,  and  holding  the 
glass  of  water  suspended  in  his  hand. 

"Katie.  But  drink  your  water,  Judge  Merlin;  it  will  refresh 
you." 

"  Katie !  But  where  is  her  mistress  ?  '  demanded  the  old  man, 
in  burning  anxiety. 

"I  do  not  know,  sir;  Katie  was  too  much  excited  by  the 
shock  of  her  meeting  with  me  and  hearing  that  you  were  on  the 
island  to  give  any  coherent  account  of  herself." 

"  But — how  came  she  here  if  not  in  attendance  upon  her  mis 
tress?  And — what  should  have  brought  Claudia  here? — unless 
she  should  have  been  on  her  voyage  home  to  me,  and  got  wrecked 
and  brought  here,  as  we  have  been,  which  is  not  likely." 

"  No ;  that  is  too  improbable  to  have  happened,  I  should 
think.  But  drink  the  water,  sir,  let  me  beg  of  you." 

"  I  will.  I  will,  Ishmael,  when'  I  have  qualified  it  a-  little !  " 
Baid  the  judge,  tottering  to  his  feet  and  going  to  a  buffet  upon 
which  stood  some  Jamaica  rum.  He  mixed  a  strong  glass  of 
spirits  and  water,  drank  it,  and  returned  to  his  seat,  saying, 
as  he  sank  into  it  with  a  deep  sigh  of  refreshment: 

"  I  feel  better.  Where  is  Katie  ?  And  how  in  the  world  came 
Bhe  here  ?  And  what  news  does  she  bring  of  her  mistress  ? " 

"  Katie  is  outside  that  door,  sir,  waiting  for  you  to  receive 
her.' 

"Let  her  come  in,  then,  Ishmael." 


A  FATHER'S  VENGEANCE.  283 

CHAPTER  XXXV. 
A  FATHER'S  VENGEANCE.  . 

Haste  me  to  know  it;  that  I,  with  wings  as  swift 
As  meditation  or  the  thoughts  of  love, 
May  sweep  to  my  revenge! 

— Shakespeare. 

Ishmael  went  to  the  door  and  admitted  Katie.  The  old 
woman  made  an  impulsive  rush  towards  her  master,  but  stopped 
and  burst  into  a  passion  of  tears  so  violent  that  she  was  scarcely 
able  to  stand. 

"  Sit  down,  Katie.  Sit  down  and  compose  yourself.  Your 
master  will  not  take  it  amiss  that  you  sit  in  his  presence,"  said 
Ishmael,  pushing  a  low,  soft  chair  towards  the  woman,  while 
he  glanced  inquiringly  towards  the  judge. 

"  Certainly  not ;  let  her  rest ;  sit  down,  Katie.  How  do  you 
do  ? "  said  the  judge,  going  towards  his  old  servant  and  holding 
out  his  hands. 

"  Oh,  marster !  Oh,  marster ! "  sobbed  Katie,  sinking  into 
the  seat  and  clinging  to  her  master's  venerable  hands,  upon 
which  her  tears  fell  like  rain. 

The  judge  gently  withdrew  his  hands,  but  it  was  only  that 
he  might  use  them  for  Katie's  relief. 

He  poured  out  a  glass  of  the  same  restorative  that  he  had 
found  so  effectual  in  his  own  case,  and  he  made  her  drink  it. 

Poor  Katie  was  unused  to  such  stimulants,  and  she  imme 
diately  felt  its  effects.  Her  eyes  sparkled  threateningly  as  she 
set  the  empty  glass  down  upon  the  table. 

"  Ah ! "   she   exclaimed,   with   indescribable   force   of   spite ; 
"ah,  the  whited  saltpeter!     Now  I  send  her  to  de  penumten-  \ 
shury;  now  I  send  her  dere  to  pick  oakum  in  a  crash  gown  and  ' 
cropped  hair,  and  an  oberseer  wid  a  big  whip  to  drive  her ! " 

"What  is  she  talking  of?  What  does  she  mean  by  whited 
saltpeter  ? "  inquired  the  judge. 

" '  Whited  sepulchre '  is  Katie's  Scripture  name  for  a  hypo 
crite,  I  suppose,"  suggested  Ishmael. 

"  Not  on'y  for  a  hypocrite,  Marse  Ishmael !  Not  on'y  for  a 
hypocrite ;  but  for  a  pi'son,  'ceitf ul,  lyin'  white  nigger ! "  said 
Katie,  with  her  eyes  snapping. 


284  BELF-RAISED  ;  OR,   FROM  THE   DEPTHS. 

"Katie,  Katie,  you  are  using  ugly  words,"  remonstrated  the 
judge. 

"Not  half  so  venomous  ugly  as  dem  I  applies  'em  to,  beg 
ging  your  pardon,  ole  marse,"  said  the  woman,  with  a  positive 
nod  of  her  head. 

"Where  did  you  leave  your  lady?"  inquired  the  judge,  who 
had  been  almost  dying  of  anxiety  to  ask  this  question,  but  had 
refrained  on  account  of  Katie's  excessive  agitation.  "  Where 
did  you  leave  your  mistress  ? " 

"Le'me  see.  Where  did  I  leave  her  ag'in?  Ohl  I  'members 
exactly  now.  'Deed  I  got  good  reason  to  'member  dat  night, 
if  I  never  'members  anoder  day  nor  night  of  my  life." 

"  Tell  us,  Katie,"  said  IshmaeL 

"Well,  den,  I  done  lef  her  on  de  grand  staircase  o*  de 
castle  a-goin'  down  to  dinner.  And  she  looked  beautiful  in  her 
rosy  more  antics,  just  like  a  lamb  dressed  for  the  sacrifice, 
'cordin'  to  de  Scriptur'.  And  she  unsuspicionin'  anything  and 
me  dyin'  to  tell  her,  on'y  she  wouldn't  stop  to  listen  to  me." 

"  To  tell  her  what,  Katie? " 

"Why,  laws,  honey,  'bout  de  debblish  plot  as  my  lordship 
and  dat  whited  saltpeter  and  de  shamwalley  plotted  ag'in  her — 
ag'in  her,  my  own  dear  babyship — ladyship,  I  meant  to  say." 

"  There  was  a  plot,  then  ? "  inquired  Ishmael,  with  forced 
calmness,  for  he  wished  quietly  to  draw  out  the  woman's  story 
without  agitating  and  confusing  her.  "  There  was  a  plot 
then?" 

"Oh,  wasn't  dere?  De  blackest  plot  ag'in  my  ladyship  as 
ebber  de  old  debbil  hisse'f  could  o'  put  in  anybody's  head.  And 
I  heard  it  all!  And  I  heard  it  all  good,  too." 

"  What  was  it,  Katie  ?  Can  you  tell  us  ? "  inquired  Ishmael, 
while  the  judge  bent  his  pale,  careworn,  and  anxious  face 
nearer  the  speaker. 

"Well,  Marse  Ishmael,  you  know  how  solemn  you  cautioned 
me  to  watch  ober  my  ladyship,  don't  you,  sir  ? " 

"Yes,  Katie;  yes." 

"  Well,  I  beared  what  you  said  in  mind.  And  de  dear  knows 
as  my  poor  dear  ladyship  did  'quire  to  be  watched  ober  worse 
nor  anybody  I  ebber  seed.  It  seems  like  you  was  a  prophet, 
Marse  Ishmael,  'cause  how  you  know  how  she  was  going  to 
be  sitterated." 

"Never  mind,  Katie.  Go  on  and  tell  us  of  the  plot,"  said 
Ishmael,  while  Judge  Merlin's  face  jfrew  sharp  and  peaked  in 


A  FATHER'S  VENGEANCE.  285 

his  silent  anguish  of  suspense.  But  both  knew  that  it  was  best 
to  let  Katie  tell  her  story  in  her  own  way. 

"  Well,  Marse  Ishmael,  sir,  I  laid  to  heart  what  you  telled 
me  so  solemn,  and  I  did  watch  ober  my  ladyship,  and  I  watched 
ober  her  good!  And  she  didn't  know  it,  nor  likewise  no 
body  else.  And  berry  soon  I  saw  as  my  ladyship  was 
'rounded  by  inimies.  And  as  dat  whited  saltpeter  was  a'tryin* 
to  take  her  husband  away  from  her.  And  den  ag'in  I  say  plain 
'nough  as  my  lordship  was  willin'  'nough  for  to  be  tuk,  for  dat 
matter.  So  I  watched  him  and  de  whited  saltpeter." 

"  But  who  is  it  that  you  call  the  whited  sepulchre,  Katie  ? " 
demanded  the  judge. 

"  Why,  who  but  his  sisser-in-law !  his  sisser-in-law  what  lib 
2ong  o'  him ;  yes !  and  libbed  long  o'  him  afore  ebber  my  poor, 
dear,  'ceived  ladyship  ebber  see  him ! " 

"  But  who  was  this  lady,  and  what  was  her  name  ? "  asked 
the  judge. 

"  She  warn't  no  lady !  She  was  an  oppry  singer,  as  was  no 
better  'an  she  should  be,  and  as  had  misled  away  my  lordship's 
younger  brother,  who  married  of  her,  and  died,  and  serve  him 
right,  de  'f ernally  fool !  And  den  ebber  since  he  died  she  done 
lib  long  o'  my  lordship  at  de  castle.  And  her  name  is  Mrs. 
Doogood,  which  is  a  'fernally  false,  'cause  she  nebber  does  no 
good!  But  my  lordship,  whenebber  he's  palabering  ob  his  sof 
nonsense  to  her,  he  call  her,  so  he  do,  Fustunner!  I  s'pose 
'cause,  when  she  quarrel  wid  him,  she  make  fuss  'nough  to  stun 
a  miller." 

"  And  this  woman  you  say  was  my  daughter's  enemy  ? " 

"  Well,  I  reckon,  marster,  as  you  would  call  her  sich,  ef  you 
heerd  de  plot  she  and  my  lordship  and  de  shamwalley  made  up 
agin  my  ladyship." 

"Yes,  but,  Katie,  you  have  not  yet  told  us  the  plot,"  said 
Ishmael. 

"Well,  I  gwine  do  it  now,  right  off,  Marse  Ishmael!  Well, 
you  see  I  kept  on  watchin'  of  'em,  till  one  day,  it  happened  aa 
a  poor  gal,  one  o'  de  housemaids,  was  found  wid  her  t'roat  cut 
unnerneaf  of  de  castle  wall — 

At  this  announcement  Judge  Merlin  started  and  looked  at 
Ishmael,  but  the  young  man  made  a  sign  that  the  judge  shoulo. 
say  nothing  that  might  interrupt  the  thread  of  Katie's  narra 
tive.  Katie  continued: 

"And  de  offercers  ob  de  law  tuk  possession  ob  de  castle  t« 


286         SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

'quire  inter  who  was  de  murderers  ob  de  poor  gal.  But  dc  more 
dey  'quired  inter  it,  de  more  dey  couldn't  find  it  out!  And 
arter  dey'd  stayed  dere  a  whole  week  'quiring,  dey  was  furder 
off  from  findin'  out  nor  ebber.  So  dey  all  up  and  sent  in  a  wer- 
dick  as  de  gal  was  foun'  wid  her  t'roat  cut  and  nobody  knowed 
who  did  it.  Dat  was  de  werdick.  Which  dey  needn't  o'  stayed 
'quiring  and  eaten'  and  drinkin'  on  us  a  whole  week  to  tell  us 
dat.  'Cause  we  knowed  dat  much  afore.  How-so-ebber,  home 
dey  all  went  and  let  de  poor  gal  be  buried.  And  I  happened  to 
be  in  de  big  hall  and  to  cotch  my  eye  on  my  lordship,  as  he  said 
to  his  wally  sham: 

"'•Frisbie,  I  shall  want  you  in  my  room  presently;  so  don't 
be  out  o'  de  way.' 

"And  I  cotch  my  eye  on  Mr.  Frisbie,  too,  and  I  see  how  he 
turned  sort  o'  white  round  de  gills,  and  he  say : 

" '  I'll  be  at  hand,  my  lord.' 

"I  says: 

" '  And  so  will  I  be  at  hand,  my  lord.' 

"And  sure  'nough,  I  goes  and  steals  inter  my  lordship's 
dressing  room,  unbeknown  to  anybody,  and  I  hides  myself 
ahind  one  ob  dem  thick  curtains !  And  presently  sure  'nougli 
my  lordship  he  comes  in  and  rings  for  Mr.  Frisbie.  Marse 
Ishmael,  honey,  would  you  mind  givin'  of  your  poor  old  Aunt 
Katie  another  tumbler  o'  rum?  'Deed  I  don't  beliebe  as  I  can 
go  on  wid  de  story  widout  somet'ing  to  s'port  me." 

"  So  much  rum  is  not  good  for  you,  Katie,  but  I  will  give 
you  a  glass  of  water,"  said  Ishmael. 

"  Oh,  honey,  no,  don't,  please !  I  don't  like  water  in  de  winter 
time,  it  allers  gibs  me  a  cold  in  the  stummick.  But  rum  warms 
me." 

Judge  Merlin,  who  was  much  too  anxious  that  Katie  should 
continue  her  story  to  be  fastidious  as  to  the  means  he  took  to 
that  end,  poured  out  and  administered  to  the  old  creature  a 
small  portion  of  the  spirits. 

"  Thanky,  marster !  thanky,  chile !  You'se  got  some  f eelin* 
for  ole  folks,  you  has!  Dese  young  people,  dey  aim  got  no 
'sideration,  dey  aint  Dat  make  me  feel  good  all  ober!  now  I 
gwine  on.  Well,  Mr.  Frisbie,  he  answers  my  lordship's  bell 
and  he  comes  in,  so  he  does.  And  den — oh !  Marse  Ishmael ! — 
my  lordship  'cuses  ob  him  o'  bein'  de  murderer!  and  tells  him 
how  he,  my  lordship,  seen  him,  Mr.  Frisbie,  do  de  deed !  Well, 
Frisbie,  he  fell  on  his  two  knees  and  begged  for  marcy.  And, 


A  FATHER'S  VENGEANCE.  287 

oh!  marster!  my  lordship  promised  to  hide  his  crime  on  con 
ditions — such  conditions,  Marse  Ishmael !  " 

"  What  were  they,  Katie  ? "  inquired  Judge  Merlin,  in  a  dy 
ing  voice,  for  a  suspicion  of  something  like  the  truth  made  him 
reel. 

"My  lordship  promised  de  shamwalley  he  would  save  him 
from  de  gallows  if  he  would  help  him  to  get  rid  ob  Lady  Vin 
cent." 

There  was  an  irrepressible  exclamation  of  horror  from  Ish 
mael  and  a  low  cry  of  anguish  from  Judge  Merlin.  But  neither 
ventured  to  speak,  lest  by  doing  so  he  should  confuse  Katie, 
who  continued  her  story. 

"  And  so  my  lordship  plotted  wid  de  shamwalley,  how  he,  de 
gihamwalley,  was  to  'tend  to  be  fond  o'  my  ladyship,  and  follow 
orter  her,  and  do  sly  things  to  draw  de  eyes  o'  de  household  on 
ter,  make  dem  all  s'picion  her,  and  talk  about  her " 

"  What !  my  daughter !  Claudia  Merlin !  "  exclaimed  the 
}udge,  in  a  voice  of  thunder,  as  he  started  to  his  feet  and  stood 
staring  at  the  speaker. 

"  Oh,  ole  marse,  for  de  Lord's  sake,  don't !  You  scare  away 
all  de  little  sense  dem  debbils  has  lef '  me ! "  cried  Katie,  shud 
dering. 

"  His  wretched  lackey !  "  vociferated  the  judge.  "  By  all  the 
fiends  in  flames,  I'll  shoot  that  scoundrel  Vincent  with  less 
remorse  than  I  would  a  mad  dog ! " 

"  Oh,  marster,  yes !  shoot  him  or  hang  him,  jus'  which  ebber 
you  thinks  bes' !  On'y  don't  roar  so  loud ;  for  'deed  it's  awful 
to  hear  you !  And  besides,  if  you  do,  I  can't  go  on  and  tell  you 
10  more,  and  you  ought  to  hear  it  all,  you  know,"  shivered 
Katie. 

"  She  is  right,  sir !  Pray  compose  yourself.  Do  you  not  see 
how  important  it  is  that  we  should  have  a  clear  statement  of 
facts  from  this  eye-  and  ear-witness  of  the  conspiracy  against 
Lady  Vincent's  honor?  Try  to  listen  coolly,  sir!  as  coolly  as 
if  you  were  on  the  bench.  Be — not  the  father,  but  the  judge," 
earnestly  remonstrated  Ishmael,  as  he  gently  constrained  his 
old  friend  to  sit  down  again. 

"  Don't  you  know  that  I  will  kill  that  man  ? "  exclaimed  the 
judge,  as  he  sank  into  his  seat. 

"  I  know  that  you  will  do  just  what  a  Christian  gentleman 
should  do  in  the  premises,"  gravely  replied  IshmaeL 

"Go  oul  what  next?"  demanded  the  judge,  in  a  voice  that 


288        SELF-EAISED;  OB,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

utterly  upset  Katie,  who  had  to  recover  her  composure  before 
ghe  could  continue  her  statement.  At  last  she  said : 

"Well,  den,  arter  dey  had  'ranged  dat  plot  dey  lef  de  room. 
And  I  come  out  and  waylaid  my  ladyship  to  tell  her  all  about 
it  and  put  her  on  her  guard.  And  I  met  her  on  de  stairs  jus' 
as  I  telled  you  afore,  and  she  looking  like  an  angel  o'  beauty; 
'but  she  wouldn't  stop  to  listen  to  me.  She  tole  me  to  go  to  her 
dressing  room  and  wait  for  her  there.  And  she  walked  down 
stairs  like  any  queen,  so  she  did,  and  dat  was  de  las'  as  ebber  I 
see  ob  my  ladyship." 

Here  Katie  paused  for  breath.  Ishmael  made  a  sign  to  Judge 
Merlin  not  to  speak.  Then  Katie  went  on. 

"I  goed  to  de  dressin'  room;  and  I  waited  and  waited  hour 
arter  hour,  but  my  ladyship  she  nebber  come.  But  while  I  was 
a-peeping  t'rough  de  door,  a-watching  for  her,  in  comes  dat 
whited  saltpeter  and  goes  into  her  'partments.  And  den  soon 
arter  comes  my  lordship,  takin'  long,  sly  steps,  like  a  cat  as  is 
gwine  to  steal  cream.  And  he  goes  into  Fustunnei-'s  rooms." 

Katie  paused,  drew  a  long  breath,  and  went  on. 

"  You  may  be  sure,  marster,  as  I  knowed  he  war  a-going  in 
dere  to  talk  ober  his  debblish  plot  long  o'  her.  So  I  jus'  took 
a  leaf  out'n  my  lordship's  own  book  and  I  creeps  along  jus'  as 
sly  as  he  could  and  I  peeps  t'rough  de  keyhole,  and  I  sees  as 
how  dey  wasn't  in  de  outermos'  room,  but  in  de  innermos', 
dough  all  the  doors  was  open  in  a  row  and  I  seen  clear  t'rough 
to  de  dressin'-room  fire,  where  dey  was  bof  a-standing  facin* 
of  it,  wid  deir  backs  towards  me.  So  I  opens  de  door  sof,  an' 
steals  in  t'rough  all  de  rooms  to  de  las'  one,  and  hides  myse'f 
in  de  folds  ob  de  curtain  as  was  drawed  up  one  side  o'  de  door. 
So,  sure  'nough,  he  was  a-tellin'  of  her  'bout  de  plot  ag'n  my 
ladyship,  and  how  dey  would  'trive  t'rough  de  wallysham  to 
make  her  appear  guilty,  so  he  could  get  a  'vorce  from  her,  and 
ikeep  her  f ortin,  and  marry  Fustunner !  " 

}  "  Flames  and  furies ! "  burst  forth  the  judge,  starting  to  his 
feet;  but  Ishmael  firmly,  though  gently,  put  him  down  again, 
and  made  an  imploring  sign  that  he  should  control  his  passion 
and  listen  in  calmness. 

It  took  Katie  some  little  time  to  get  over  this  last  startling 
shock  before  she  could  continue  her  story. 

"Now,  Marse  Ishmael,  if  you  don't  keep  ole  marster  quiet, 
'deed  I  gwine  shut  up  my  mouf,  'cause  he's  wuss  on  anybody's 
n&rves  dan  an  elected  battery,"  she  said. 


A  FATHEE'S  VENGEANCE.  289 

"  Go  on,  Katie,  go  on ! "  commanded  Ishmael,  as  lie  stood  by 
Judge  Merlin's  chair  and  kept  his  arm  over  the  old  man's 
shoulders. 

"  Well,  den,  he  keep  still.  'Deed  I  'f  raid  he  tears  me  up  nex' 
time  he  jump  at  me." 

"  Have  no  uneasiness,  Katie.    Go  on !  " 

"  Well,  dat  whited  saltpeter — oh,  but  she's  deep ! — 'proved  db 
de  plot,  and  clapped  her  hands  like  a  fool,  and  den  she  'proved 
on  de  plot,  too,  for  she  planned  out  how  dey  should  all  make  a\ 
party  to  go  to  de  play,  and  pertend  to  inwite  my  ladyship  to  go 
'long  too,  which  they  knowed  she  wouldn't  do.  And  how  dey 
should  go  widout  her;  and  how  de  shamwalley  should  hide  him- 
se'f  in  my  ladyship's  room,  unbeknownst  to  her;  and  how  dey 
should  all  come  back  and  bust  open  de  door  and  find  him  in 
dere;  and  how  he  should  'fess  a  lie  as  my  ladyship  invited  him 
dere,  and  was  in  de  habit  ob  so  doing " 

Here  Ishmael  had  hard  work  to  keep  Judge  Merlin  down  in 
his  seat,  and  restrain  the  old  man's  demonstrations  within  the 
limits  of  making  awful  faces  and  tearing  out  his  own  gray 
hair  by  the  roots. 

Katie  meanwhile  continued: 

"Well,  marster,  jus'  when  I  had  heerd  dat  much — cuss  my 
nose! — I  beg  your  pardon,  Marse  Ishmael,  but — I  sneezed! 
And  nex'  minute  my  lordship  had  me  by  de  t'roat,  and  den  he 
began  cussin'  and  swearin',  an'  sassin'  at  me  hard  as  ebber  he 
could.  But  didn't  I  gib  him  good  as  he  sent,  soon  as  ebber  he 
let  go  my  t'roat?  Well,  childun,  I  jus'  did!  But  den,  when 
dey  foun'  out  I  had  heern  ebberyt'ing,  and  knowed  all  deir  'fer- 
nally  tricks,  and  mean  to  'form  on  dem,  dey  got  scared,  dey  did ! 
And  my  lordship  ax  what  was  to  be  done  ?  And  de  whited  salt 
peter  said  how  I  mus'n't  be  let  to  leabe  de  room  alibe.  So  when 
I  heerd  dat,  I  got  scared;  and  anybody  would  in  my  place.  So 
I  opened  my  mouf  to  scream.  But  lor',  childun,  he  squeezed 
my  t'roat  till  I  loss  my  breaf  as  well  as  my  voice.  But  I  heerd 
him  ax  her  ag'in  what  was  to  be  done?  For,  you  see,  de  'fer- 
nally  fool  seemed  to  'pend  on  her  for  ebberyt'ing.  And  he  ax 
her  couldn't  she  help  him?  And  she  rushed  about  de  room  and 
f  otch  somefin,  and  he  put  it  to  my  nose,  and — I  went  dead !  " 

"  It  must  have  been  chloroform,"  suggested  Ishmael. 

"  Dunno  what  it  was ;  but  I'm  sure  I  should  know  de  truck 
ag'in.  For  of  all  de  grape  winyards  and  apple  orchids  and 
flower  gardens  as  ebber  smelt  lovely,  dat  truck  smelt  de  love- 


290         SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

liest.  And  of  all  de  silvery  flutes  and  violins  and  pineannas 
and  bells  as  ebber  rung  out  for  a  wedding,  dat  truck  did  ring 
de  silveriest  t'rough  my  brain.  And  of  all  de  'himinations  as 
ebber  was  'luminated  for  de  presiden's  'lection,  dat  truck  did 
'luminate  my  eyes.  And  tell  you  what,  childun,  dougb  dey  was 
a-murdering  of  me  vid  it,  de  'ceiving  truck  sent  me  right  to 
hebben  afore  it  sent  me  dead ! " 

"  What  next  ?  "  inquired  Ishmael. 

"  Well,  nex'  thing  when  I  come  to  life  ag'in,  I  found  myself 
in  a  dark,  narrow,  steep  place,  going  down — bump!  bump! 
bump!  and  den  faster — bumpetty — bumpetty — bumpetty — 
bump !  till  I  t'ought  ebbery  blessed  bone  in  my  body  would  have 
been  broke!  And  I  t'ought  how  two  debbils  had  hold  of  my 
soul,  a-dragging  it  down  to — you  know  where,"  said  Katie, 
rolling  her  eyes  mysteriously. 

"Proceed,"  said  Ishmael. 

"Well,  when  dey  got  me  to  de  bottom,  dey  drag  me  along 
a  wet,  hard,  stony  floor,  so  dey  did;  and  I  'fraid  to  draw  my 
bref !  Oh,  marster !  I  couldn't  tell  you  how  far  dey  dragged  me, 
till  dey  stopt.  Den  a  voice  said-: 

"  '  Finish  her  here ! ' — and  dat  was  Fustunner's  voice.  And 
den  anoder  voice  answered  and  said: 

"  '  She's  done  for  already.'    And  dat  was  my  lordship's  voice. 

"  And  den  I  knowed  as  dey  wa'n't  debbils — leastways  not 
spiritual  debbils — as  had  my  soul,  dragging  it  down  to — you 
know  where;  but  humsn  debbils,  as  was  takin'  of  me  down  in 
some  deep  wault  to  kill  me.  So  I  t'ought  de  best  t'ing  I  could 
do  was  to  sham  dead.  So  I  kep'  my  eyes  shet  and  held  my 
breaf,  and  shammed  hard  as  I  could.  But  somehow  or  'noder 
I  don't  t'ink  I  'ceived  my  lordship.  I  t'ink  I  on'y  'ceived  her. 
Anyways,  he  pitched  me  neck  and  crop  into  a  dark,  stony,  wet 
cell,  and  locked  de  door  on  me,  and  den  dey  bof  went  away." 

Here  Katie  paused  and  remained  silent  so  long  that  Ishmael 
felt  obliged  again  to  set  her  going  by  saying : 

"Well,  Katie,  what  followed?" 

"  Why,  nothing  but  darkness ;  blackness  of  darkness,  Marse 
Ishmael,  so  thick  it  'peared  like  I  could  feel  it  with  my  hands. 
I  did  get  up  on  my  feet  and  feel  all  around,  and  dere  was 
nothing  below,  or  'round,  or  ober  me  but  wet  stone  wall.  And 
de  place  was  so  small,  as  I  could  stand  dere  and  reach  any 
part  of  de  wall  on  any  side  ob  me  widout  taking  of  a  step.  And 
wa'n't  dat  a  perty  place  to  put  a  Christian  'omaa  into?  Deed, 


A  FATHER'S  VENGEANCE.  291 

I  beliebe  I  should  o'  gib  up  de  ghose,  if  I  had  had  de  t'ought 
to  t'ink  about  myself.  But  I  hadn't.  I  t'ought  only  of  my 
poor,  dear  ladyship  up  dere  'sposed  to  de  treachery  ob  dem 
debbils  wid  nobody  to  warn  her,  nor  likewise  purtect  her,  poor 
dear  baby!  And  when  I  t'ought  o'  dat,  seemed  to  me  as  my 
poor  heart  would  'a'  bust.  And  I  beliebe  it  would,  on'y  dere 
came  a  divurtisement.  For  you  see,  I  sets  myself  down  in  my 
'spair,  on  de  cole  stone  floor;  and  soon  as  ebber  I  does  dat,  a 
whole  passel  o'  rats  come  a-nosin'  and  a-smellin'  at  me,  and 
nibblin'  my  shoes  's  if  dey'd  like  to  'vour  me  alibe;  and  it  tuk 
all  my  time  and  'tention  to  dribe  dem  away." 

"  That  was  horrible,  Katie,"  said  Ishmael,  in  a  tone  of  sym 
pathy. 

"Well,  so  it  was,  Marse  Ishmael;  but  for  all  dat  somehow 
I  was  right  down  glad  to  see  de  rats — dey  was  alibe,  and  arter 
dey  come,  'peared  like  de  place  wasn't  so  much  like  a  grabe ; 
'sides  which  dey  was  company  for  me  down  dere  in  de  dark, 
and  dey  gi'  me  somefin  to  do,  keepin'  dem  offen  me." 

"But,  Katie,  were  you  not  afraid  of  being  abandoned  there 
and  left  to  die?" 

"  Well,  honey,  I  s'pose  I  should  ha'  been  ef  I  had  t'ought  of  it. 
But,  you  see,  I  nebber  t'ought  o'  nothin'  but  my  poor,  dear, 
desolate  ladyship,  as  I  telled  you  before." 

"  Yes ;  I  can  easily  understand  that,  Katie.  Lady  Vincent's 
situation  was  even  much  worse  than  your  own,"  said  Ishmael. 

"  Oh,  the  infernal  scoundrel !  I'll  kill  him !  I'll  shoot  him 
like  a  dog,  if  I  have  to  follow  him  all  over  the  world  and  spend 
my  life  in  the  pursuit ! "  broke  forth  Judge  Merlin. 

There  ensued  a  short  pause  in  the  conversation,  and  then 
Ishmael,  speaking  in  a  low,  calm  tone,  inquired: 

"  How  long  did  you  remain  in  that  dungeon,  Katie  ? " 

"'Deed,  Marse  Ishmael,  chile,  I  dunno;  cause,  you  see,  I 
hadn't  no  ways  o'  keepin'  'count  o'  de  time;  for,  you  see,  noon 
day  was  jus'  as  dark  as  midnight  in  dat  den.  So  how  I  gwine 
tell  when  day  broke,  or  when  night  come  ag'in?  or  how  many 
days  broke,  or  how  many  nights  come  ? " 

"  Then  you  have  really  no  idea  of  how  long  you  remained 
there?" 

"  Not  a  bit !  'Cause,  you  see,  Marse  Ishmael,  'pears  to  me, 
judging  by  my  feelin's,  as  I  must  a  stayed  dere  about  seben 
years.  But  den  I  don't  s'pose  I  stayed  dat  long  neider,  'cause 
I  know  I  nebber  had  nothin'  to  eat  nor  drink  all  de  time  I  was 


292         SELF-KAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

dere;  which  you  know  I  couldn't  a'  fasted  seben  years,  down 
dere,  could  I  ? " 

"  K"ot  with  safety  to  life  and  health,  Katie,"  smiled  Ishmael. 

"  Well,  den,  if  it  wasn't  seben  years,  it  was  as  long  as  ebber 
anybody  could  lib  dere  a-f astin' !  " 

"  How  did  you  get  out  at  last,  Katie  ?  " 

"  Well,  now,  Marse  Ishmael,  begging  of  your  pardon,  dat  was 
the  curiousest  t'ing  of  all !  I  dunno  no  more  how  I  come  out'n 
dat  dark  den,  nor  de  man  in  de  moon !  I  t'ink  it  was  witch 
craft  and  debbilment,  dat's  what  I  t'ink,"  whispered  Katie, 
rolling  her  eyes  mysteriously. 

"  Tell  us  what  you  do  know,  however,"  said  IshmaeL 

u  Well,  all  I  know  is  jus'  dis :  I  had  to  keep  my  eyes  open  day 
and  night  to  dribe  de  rats  away.  And  tired  and  sleepy  as  I  was, 
I  dar'n't  go  to  sleep,  for  fear  as  dey  would  'vour  me  alibe.  Last, 
hows'eber,  I  was  so  dead  tired,  and  so  dead  sleepy,  dat  I  couldn't 
keep  awake  no  longer,  and  so  I  fell  fas'  asleep,  and  now,  Marse 
Ishmael,  listen,  'cause  I  gwine  to  tell  you  somethin'  wery 
'stonishin'!  Sure  as  I'm  a-libbin'  'oman,  standin'  here  afore 
your  eyes,  when  I  drapped  asleep  I  was  in  dat  dark  den,  unner 
de  groun',  and  when  I  waked  up  I  was  in  a  ship  sailin'  on  de 
big  sea !  Dere !  you  may  beliebe  me  or  not,  as  you  choose,  but 
dat  is  de  truf e !  " 

Judge  Merlin  and  Ishmael  exchanged  glances  and  then  the 
latter  said: 

"  The  case  is  a  perfectly  clear  one  to  me,  sir.  While  she  slept 
she  was  made  to  inhale  chloroform,  and  while  under  its  influ 
ence  she  was  conveyed  from  her  prison  to  the  ship,  very  likely 
a  smuggler;  and  was  brought  here  and  sold  for  a  slave." 

"  Dere !  dere !  If  Marse  Ishmael  Wort  aint  hit  de  nail  right 
on  de  head !  To  be  sure  it  mus'  a  been  chloe-f awn !  And  'pears 
to  me  I  has  a  faint  membry  as  how  I  was  dreaming  o'  de  same 
sweet  scents  and  silver  bells  and.  rosy  lights  as  I  had  'sper- 
ienced  once  afore.  To  be  sure  it  mus'  a  been  chloe-f  awn !  And 
as  for  de  rest,  Marse  Ishmael,  it  is  all  true  as  gospel!  Sure 
'nough,  dey  did  fetch  me  to  dis  island  and  dey  did  sell  me  for 
a  slabe,"  said  old  Katie. 

"  But  hadn't  you  a  tongue  in  your  head  ?  Couldn't  you  have 
told  the  people  here  that  you  were  free  ? "  demanded  Judge 
Merlin  impatiently. 

"An'  sure,  didn't  I  do  it?  Didn't  I  pallaber  till  my  t'roat 
was  sore?  And  didn't  poor  Jim  and  Sally  pallaber  till  deir 


A  FATHER'S  VENGEANCE.  293 

t'roats  was  sore?  And  didn't  all  t'ree  of  us  pallaber  togeder 
till  we  mos'  wore  out  our  tongues?  Didn't  do  no  good,  dough! 
'Cause  you  see,  de  people  here  is  aich  barbariums  dat  dey  can 
not  unnerstan'  one  word  o'  good  Christian  talk." 

"  And  if  they  had  understood  you,  Katie,  as  some  of  them 
probably  did,  it  would  not  have  served  you;  your  unsupported 
words  would  have  never  been  taken.  As  you  are  aware,  my  dear 
judge,  if  you  will  take  time  to  reflect,"  added  Ishmael,  turning 
to  Judge  Merlin. 

"  Certainly,  certainly,"  replied  the  latter. 

"  But,  Katie,  you  mentioned  Sally  and  Jim.  Is  it  possible 
that  they  also  were  kidnaped  ? "  inquired  Ishmael. 

"  You  better  beliebe  it,  honey !  'Cause  it's  true  as  gospel, 
chile!  Now  I  gwine  to  tell  you  all  about  it.  One  o'  de  fust 
tings  I  t' ought  when  I  woke  up  and  stared  around  to  find  my 
self  aboard  dat  vessel  on  de  water,  was  dat  I  had  died  in  dat 
cell  and  dat  de  angels  was  a-takin'  my  soul  across  de  Riber 
ob  Jordan  to  the  City  ob  de  New  Jerusalem  'cordin'  to  de  Scrip- 
tur'.  On'y  you  see,  chile,  I  wasn't  dat  downright  sure  and 
sartain  as  I  myse'f  was  a  saint  prepared  for  hebben;  nor  like 
wise  did  de  man  as  sat  smoking  and  drinking  at  de  table  look 
like  the  chief  ob  de  angels." 

"  In  what  part  of  the  ship  were  you  when  you  recovered 
your  consciousness  ? "  inquired  Ishmael,  who  wished  to  have 
a  clear  idea  of  the  "  situation." 

"  In  de  cap'n's  cabin,  Marse  Ishmael.  And  dat  was  de  cap'n, 
dough  I  didn't  know  who  he  was,  nor  where  I  was,  at  de  time. 
So  I  up  and  ax  him: 

" '  Please,  marster,  if  you  please,  sir,  to  tell  me  is  I  to  go  to 
hebben  or  t'other  place  ? ' 

" '  Oh !  you've  come  to,  have  you  ? '  says  he,  and  he  takes  a 
pipe  from  de  table  and  he  whistles. 

"  And  den  a  bad-lookin'  man  comes  down.  And  says  de  cap 
tain  to  him: 

" '  Jack,  bundle  dis  'oman  out'n  here  and  put  her  into  the 
steerage.' 

"  And  de  ill-lookin'  man  he  says  to  me : 

" '  Come  along,  blacky ! ' 

"And  so  I  up  and  followed  him  to  de  deck,  'cause  why  not? 
What  was  de  use  o'  resistin'  ?  'Sides  which,  I  t'ought  by  going 
farder  I  might  fine  out  more.  And  sure  ''nough  so  I  did!  for 
soon  as  ebber  I  got  on  deck,  de  fuss  person  I  see  was  Jinv 


294  SELF-RAISED,    OR,    FROM   THE  DEPTHS. 

Which  soon  as  ebber  I  see  him,  and  he  see  me,  he  run,  de  pool 
boy,  and  cotch  me  'round  de  neck,  and  hugged  and  kissed  me, 
and  said  says  he: 

" '  Oh,  my  mammy !  is  dis  you  ? ' 

"And  says  I: 

" '  Yes,  Jim,  it's  me !  I  died  down  dere,  in  a  wault,  in  de  bot 
tom  o'  de  castle.  When  did  you  die,  Jim  ? ' 

"'Am  I  dead,  mammy?'  says  he. 

" '  Why,  to  be  sure  you  are,'  says  I, '  else  how  you  come  here  ? ' 

" '  And  dat's  true  enough,'  says  he.  '  On'y  I  didn't  know  I 
was  dead  till  you  told  me,  mammy.  Well,  if  I'm  dead,  I  s'poso 
I  must  'a'  died  sudden.  Cause  I  know  I  was  well  and  hearty 
enough;  on'y  dat  I  was  troubled  'bout  you,  mammy;  ard  I  went 
to  sleep  in  my  bed  and  when  I  waked  up  I  was  here.' 

"Well,  while  Jim  was  talkin'  I  heerd  de  man,  Jack,  say: 

"'Go  along  den,  you  cuss!  dere's  your  frien's.' 

"And  I  looked  up  and  dere  he  was  a-pushing  Sally  along 
towards  us! 

" '  And,  oh,  Sally,'  says  I, '  are  you  dead  too  ? ' 

"  *  No,  Aunt  Katie,  I  aint  dead ;  but  I'm  stole !  And  I  s'pectfl 
you  all  is  too ! '  And  den  she  boo-hoo-ed  right  out. 

"  '  Sally,'  says  I,  '  you  is  dead ! ' 

" '  No,  I  aint,  Aunt  Katie,  I's  stole ! '  she  said,  crying  as  if 
her  heart  would  break. 

"'  Sally,'  says  I,  'you's  dead!  Now  don't  'ny  it!  'Cause  what 
would  be  de  use  ?  For  if  you  aint  dead,  how  came  you  here  ?  * 

" '  I  know  how  I  come  here  well  enough.  I  was  stole  out'n  my 
bed  and  brought  here.  And  my  lordship  help  de  t'ieves  to  steal 
me.  I  saw  him.' 

"'Mammy,'  says  Jim,  *I  reckon  Sally's  in  de  right  ob  it. 
And  'deed  I  hopes  she  is;  'cause  you  see  if  she  aint  dead,  why 
no  more  are  we;  and  if  she  was  stole,  why,  it's  like  as  we  was 
too ! '  And  den  turnin'  round  to  Sally,  he  says,  says  he : 

" '  Sally,  tell  us  what  happened  to  you.' 

"  So  Sally  she  told  us  how  she  hadn't  been  able  to  sleep  de 
night  afore;  and  how  towards  mornin'  she  fought  she  would 
get  up  and  dress  herse'f.  And  jus'  as  she  was  a-puttin'  on  her 
shoes,  all  ob  a  sudden  de  door  opens  and  in  walks  my  lordship, 
follyed  by  two  men!  v/hich  she  was  so  'stonished  she  could  do 
no-thing  but  stare,  'till  my  lordship  sprung  at  her  t'roat  and  put 
somefing  to  her  nose,  as  mad  ;  her  faint  away.  Which  ob  course 
it  mus'  a  been  chloe-fawn.'' 


A  FATHER'S  VENGEANCE.  295 

"  Of  course,"  said  Ishmael ;  "  but  go  on  with  your  statement." 

"  Well,  and  Sally  tole  me  how,  when  she  come  to  herself,  she 
was  in  dis  wessel.  But  she  says  she  wasn't  'ceived  one  bit.  She 
'membered  eberyting.  And  she  could  swear  to  de  men  as  stole 
her,  v.hich  dey  was  my  lordship — and  a  perty  lordship  he  is! — 
and  de  captain  o'  de  wessel  and  de  fust  mate." 

"  Sally  will  be  a  most  invaluable  witness  against  those  felons, 
Judge  Merlin,  if  she  can  be  found  and  taken  to  England," 
whispered  Ishmael. 

The  old  man  nodded  assent.    And  Katie  continued: 

"Well,  childun,  afore  I  heerd  Sally's  'scription  o'  how  dey 
sarved  her,  I  could  a  swoird  as  we  was  all  dead,  and  on  our 
woyage  cross  de  riber  of  Jordan.  But  arter  dat  I  was  open  to 
conwiction;  which  you  know,  Marse  Ishmael,  I  was  allers  ob  a 
lib'ral,  'lightened  turn  o'  mind!  And  so  I  gib  in  as  we  was 
all  alibe." 

"  Well,  and  what  then,  Katie  ?  How  did  you  reconcile  your 
self  to  your  lot  ?  " 

"  Well,  Marse  Ishmael,  you  know  how  it  is  wid  us  poor  cul- 
lered  folks,  as  can't  eben  call  our  childun  our  own  ?  Well,  seeing 
as  we  was  in  de  hand  o'  de  spoiler,  we  laid  low  and  said  nothin'. 
What  would  a  been  de  use  o'  makin'  a  fuss  dere?  We  couldn't 
get  out'n  de  wessel  if  dcy'd  let  us,  'less  we  had  gone  inter  de 
water.  So  we  'signed  ourselves  to  carcumstarices  and  did  de 
bes'  we  could  till  we  arribed  out  here  to  dese  Wes'  Stingy 
Islands  and  was  put  up  for  sale.  Den  we  spoke;  but  we  might 
jus'  as  well  a  held  our  tongues;  for  as  I  telled  you  afore,  dese 
barbariums  don't  unnerstaii'  one  blessed  word  o'  good  Chris 
tian  talk.  And  so,  Marse  Ishmael,  spite  o'  all  we  could  say,  poor 
Jim  was  knocked  down  to  a  sinner-done  as  libe  in  de  country, 
which  sinner-done  took  him  off  dere.  And  Sally  she  was  sole 
to  a  sinner-done  as  libs  near  de  Captain  General's  palace.  Desa 
barbariums  calls  all  de  ladies  and  gemmen  sinner-dones  an' 
sinner-doners.  And  I  was  give  away  to  a  'fernal  low  shop 
keeper  near  de  quays." 

"  Now,  Judge  Merlin,"  said  Ishmael,  "  that  we  have  heard 
her  story,  we  must  take  very  prompt  measures." 

"  What  would  you  do,  Ishmael  ?  " 

For  all  answer,  Ishmael  rang  the  bell  and  ordered  a  carriage 
to  be  brought  to  the  door  immediately.  That  done,  he  turned  to 
the  judge  and  said: 

"We  must  take  Katie  with  us,  ask  Mr.  Brudenell  to  accom- 


296         SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

pany  us,  and  drive  first  to  the  office  of  our  consul.  We  shall 
require  official  assistance  in  the  recovery  of  these  servants. 
We  must  be  quick,  for  we  must  get  all  this  business  settled 
in  time  for  the  sailing  of  the  '  Cadiz/  in  which  we  must  return 
to  England,  and  take  these  negroes  with  us.  We  must  at  any 
cost;  even  if  we  have  to  purchase  them  back  at  double  the 
money  for  which  they  were  sold.  For  you  see  that  their  testi 
mony  is  all  we  require  to  overthrow  Lord  Vincent  and  vindi- 
vate  his  wife." 

"  Oh,  the  infernal  villain !  Do  you  think,  Ishmael,  that  I 
shall  be  contented  with  simply  overthrowing  him  in  the  divorce 
court  ?  No !  By  all  that  is  most  sacred,  I  will  kill  him !  "  thun 
dered  the  judge. 

"We  will  not  have  any  divorce  trial,"  said  Ishmael  firmly. 
"  We  will  not  have  your  daughter's  pure  name  dragged  through 
the  mire  of  a  divorce  court;  we  will  have  Lord  Vincent  and  his 
accomplices  arrested  and  tried;  the  valet  for  murder,  and  the 
viscount  and  the  opera  singer  for  conspiracy  and  kidnaping. 
We  have  proof  enough  to  convict  them  all;  the  valet  will  be 
hanged;  and  the  viscount  and  the  opera  singer  sentenced  to 
penal  servitude  for  many  years.  Will  not  that  be  sufficient 
punishment  for  the  conspirators.  And  is  it  not  better  that  the 
law  should  deal  out  retributive  justice  to  them,  than  that  you 
should  execute  unlawful  vengeance  ? "  inquired  the  young  man. 

"  But  my  daughter !    My  daughter !  " 

"Your  daughter  shall  be  restored  to  you;  her  dower  re 
covered;  her  name  preserved;  and  her  honor  perfectly,  tri 
umphantly  vindicated." 


CHAPTER  XXXVL 

ON  THE  VISCOUNT^S  TRACK. 

Vengeance  to  God  alone  belongs; 
But  when  I  think  of  all  my  wrongs 
My  blood  is  liquid  flame! 

— Marmion. 

While  Ishmael  and  Judge  Merlin  still  conversed  the  carriage 
was  announced.  A  message  was  dispatched  to  Mr.  Brudenell; 
but  the  messenger  returned  with  the  news  that  the  gentleman 
had  gone  out. 

Therefore  Ishmael  and  the  judge,  taking  Katie  with  them, 


OK    THE    VISCOUNT'S   TKACK.  297 

entered  the  carriage  and  gave  the  order  to  be  driven  to  the 
American  consul's  office. 

The  way  was  long,  the  carriage  slow,  and  the  judge  boiling 
over  with  rage  and  impatience. 

It  was  well  for  Judge  Merlin  that  he  had  Ishmael  Worth 
beside  him  to  restrain  his  passion  and  guide  his  actions. 

During  the  ride  the  young  lawyer  said : 

"In  conducting  this  affair,  Judge  Merlin,  Lady  Vincent's 
welfare  must  be  our  very  first  consideration." 

"Oh,  yes,  yes!" 

"  To  do  her  any  good  we  must  act  with  promptitude." 

"  Of  course." 

"  But  to  act  with  promptitude,  great  sacrifices  must  be  made* 

"What  sacrifices?" 

"  In  the  first  place,  you  must  lay  aside  your  desire  for  ven 
geance  upon  the  villainous  kidnapers  who  brought  your  old  ser- 
vents  here  and  sold  them." 

"  Ah,  but,  Ishmael,  I  cannot  bear  to  let  them  go  unpunished." 

"  Believe  me,  no  crime  ever  goes  unpunished.  These  men, 
sooner  or  later,  will  be  brought  to  justice.  But  if  you  attempt  to 
prosecute  them,  you  will  be  detained  here  for  days,  weeks,  and 
perhaps  even  months.  For,  once  having  laid  so  grave  a  charge 
against  any  man,  or  set  of  men,  you  would  be  compelled  to  re 
main  as  a  prosecuting  witness  against  them.  And  the  delay 
would  be  almost  fatal  to  Lady  Vincent,  suffering  as  she  must  be 
the  most  extreme  agony  of  suspense." 

"  I  see !  I  see !  Poor  Claudia !  she  must  be  my  only  thought  1 
I  must  leave  the  smuggler  to  the  justice  of  Heaven.  But  it 
is  a  sacrifice,  Ishmael." 

"A  necessary  one,  sir;  but  there  is  still  another  that  you 
must  make  in  order  to  hasten  to  the  rescue  of  Lady  Vincent." 
(  "And  that?" 

"  Is  the  sacrifice  of  a  large  sum  of  money.  A  large  sum, 
even  for  a  man  of  fortune  like  yourself,  judge." 

"  And  that  fortune  is  not  nearly  so  considerable  as  it  is  sup 
posed  to  be,  Ishmael.  When  I  had  paid  over  my  daughter's 
dower,  I  left  myself  but  a  moderate  independence." 
j  "Nevertheless,  judge,  if  it  should  take  the  whole  of  your 
funded  property,  you  will  gladly  devote  it  to  the  vindication  of 
your  daughter's  honor.  We  must  be  in  England  with  our  wit 
nesses  in  time  to  arrest  Lord  Vincent  and  his  accomplices  be 
fore  he  has  an  opportunity  of  bringing  on  the  divorce  suit," 


298        SELF- RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

"  Certainly." 

"  To  do  this  you  will  have  to  expend  a  large  sum  of  money  in 
the  repurchasing  of  the  negroes;  for  you  must  be  aware  that 
their  present  owners,  having  bought  them  in  good  faith,  will 
not  relinquish  them  without  a  struggle,  which  would  involve 
you  in  a  long  lawsuit,  the  issue  of  which  would  be  very  doubt 
ful;  for  you  must  be  aware  that  there  are  many  knotty  points 
in  this  case.  Now,  I  put  the  question  to  you,  whether  you  can, 
with  safety  to  Lady  Vincent,  remain  here  for  weeks  or  months, 
either  as  prosecutor  in  the  criminal  trial  of  the  smugglers  or  as 
plaintiff  in  a  civil  suit  with  the  purchasers  of  Lady  Vincent's 
servants  ? " 

"  I  cannot." 

"  Then  do  not  attempt  either  to  punish  the  kidnapers  or 
wrest  the  slaves  from  the  hands  of  their  present  owners.  Our 
plan  will  be  simply  this:  Take  the  consul  with  us  to  identify 
us,  go  to  these  owners,  explain  the  facts,  and  offer  to  repurchaso 
ihe  negroes  at  once.  They  will,  no  doubt,  gladly  come  to  terms, 
rather  than  risk  a  lawsuit  in  which  they  would  probably  lose 
their  purchase-money." 

"I  see.  Yes,  Ishmael.  You  are  wise  and  right,  as  you  al 
ways  are,"  said  the  judge,  with  an  air  of  conviction. 

"  All  this  business  may  be  arranged  in  time  for  us  to  take 
passage  on  the  '  Cadiz,'  that  sails  on  Saturday.  Now,  here  we 
are  at  the  consul's  office,"  said  Ishmael,  as  the  carriage  stopped 
at  the  door  of  the  American  consulate. 

Leaving  Katie  in  the  carriage  they  alighted  and  entered.  The 
consul  was  engaged,  so  that  they  were  detained  in  the  anteroom 
nearly  half  an  hour;  at  the  end  of  which  four  or  five  gentlemen 
were  seen  to  issue  from  the  inner  room,  and  then  the  door 
keeper,  with  a  bow,  invited  Judge  Merlin's  party  to  pass  in. 

Philip  Tourneysee,  the  American  consul  for  Havana  at  that 
time,  was  the  eldest  son  of  that  General  Tourneysee  whom  the 
reader  has  already  met  at  the  house  of  Judge  Merlin  in  Wash 
ington.  He  had  sought  his  present  appointment  because  a 
residence  in  the  West  Indies  had  been  recommended  for  his 
health.  He  was  a  slight,  elegant,  refined-looking'  man,  with  a 
clear  complexion,  bright  auburn  hair,  and  dark  hazel  eyes.  The 
fine  expression  of  his  countenance  alone  redeemed  it  from 
effeminacy. 

On  seeing  Judge  Merlin  enter  with  his  party  he  arose  smil 
ingly  to  receive  them., 


ON  THE  VISCOUNT'S  TRACK.  299 

"You  are  surprised  to  see  me  here  again  so  soon,  Philip," 
said  the  judge,  as  he  seated  himself  in  the  chair  placed  for  him 
by  the  consul. 

"I  cannot  see  you  too  often,  judge,"  was  the  courteous 
answer. 

"Hem!  This  is  my  friend,  Mr.  Worth,  of  the  Washington 
bar.  Mr.  Worth,  Mr.  Tourneysee,  our  consul  for  the  port  of 
Havana,"  said  the  judge,  with  all  his  old-fashioned  formality. 

The  gentlemen  thus  introduced  bowed,  and  the  consul  offered 
a  chair  to  his  second  visitor  and  then  seated  himself  and  looked 
attentive. 

"  We  have  come  about  the  most  awkward  business  that  ever 
was  taken  in  hand,"  said  the  judge;  "  the  strangest  and  most  in 
famous,  also,  that  ever  came  before  a  criminal  tribunal.  But 
let  that  pass.  What  would  you  say,  for  instance,  to  the  fact  of  an 
English  nobleman  turning  slave-trader — and  not  only  slave- 
trader,  but  slave-stealer  ? " 

The  consul  looked  perplexed  and  incredulous. 

"  I  will  tell  you  all  about  it,"  said  the  judge,  who  immediately 
commenced  and  related  to  the  astonished  consul  the  history  of 
the  abduction  and  sale  of  the  three  negroes  by  Lord  Vincent, 
and  their  subsequent  transportation  to  Cuba  and  second  sale 
at  Havana  by  the  smugglers. 

"  You  will,  of  course,  cause  instant  search  to  be  made  for  the 
guilty  parties,  and  I  will  certainly  give  you  every  assistance 
in  my  power,  both  in  my  public  capacity  and  as  your  private 
friend.  We  will  go  to  work  at  once,"  said  the  consul  warmly, 
placing  his  hand  upon  the  bell. 

"  No,"  said  the  judge,  arresting  his  motion.  "  I  have  con 
sulted  with  my  friend  and  counsel,  Mr.  Worth,  and  we  have 
decided  that  the  smugglers,  who  are,  after  all,  but  the  subordi 
nates  in  this  guilty  confederacy,  must  go  unpursued  and  unpun 
ished  for  the  present." 

"  How  ? "  inquired  the  consul,  turning  to  Ishmael,  as  if  he 
doubted  his  own  ears. 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Ishmael  calmly,  "circumstances  into  which 
it  is  not  necessary  that  we  should  now  enter,  render  it  abso 
lutely  necessary  that  we  should  be  in  England  as  soon  as  possi 
ble.  It  is  equally  necessary  that  we  should  take  the  negroes  with 
us,  not  only  as  witnesses  against  their  first  abductor  as  to  the 
fact  of  the  abduction,  but  also  as  to  other  transactions  of  which 
they  were  cognizant  previous  to  that  event.  We  must  therefore 


300        SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

avoid  lawsuits  which  would  be  likely  to  detain  us  here.  We 
cannot  delay  our  departure  either  to  prosecute  the  smugglers 
for  kidnaping,  or  to  sue  the  purchasers  for  the  recovery  of 
the  negroes.  We  must  leave  the  smugglers  to  the  retribu 
tion  of  Providence,  and  we  must  pay  the  purchasers  for  the 
negroes  we  wish  to  carry  away  with  us.  What,  therefore,  we 
would  ask  of  your  kindness  is  this — that  you  will  go  with  us 
to  the  purchasers  of  these  negroes  and  identify  us,  so  as  to 
smooth  the  way  for  a  negotiation  of  our  difficulties." 

"  Certainly,  certainly.  Let  me  see.  I  have  an  appointment 
here  at  two  o'clock,  but  at  three  I  will  join  you  at  any  place 
ywu  may  name." 

"  Would  our  hotel  be  a  convenient  rendezvous  for  you  ? " 

"  Perfectly." 

"  Then  we  will  detain  you  no  longer,"  said  Ishmael,  rising. 

The  judge  followed  his  example. 

And  both  gentlemen  shook  hands  with  the  consul  and  de 
parted. 

"  I  think,"  said  Ishmael,  as  they  took  their  seats  in  the  car 
riage,  "that  we  should  take  Katie  immediately  back  to  her 
owner.  I  understand  from  her  that  he  is  a  man  in  the  humbler 
walks  of  life,  and  therefore  I  think  that  he  might  be  willing 
to  close  with  us  for  a  liberal  advance  upon  the  price  paid  the 
smuggler." 

"  Do  so,  if  you  please,  Ishmael ;  I  trust  entirely  to  your  dis 
cretion,"  answered  the  judge. 

"Katie,"  said  Ishmael  to  the  old  woman,  who  had  never 
Jeft  the  carriage,  "  can  you  direct  us  the  way  to  find  the  man 
who  bought  you  ?  " 

"  Not  to  save  my  precious  life,  couldn't  I,  honey.  Because 
you  see,  I  nebber  can  t'ink  o'  de  barbareous  names  dey  has  to  de 
streets  in  dis  outlan'ish  place.  But  I  knows  where  I  is  well 
'nough.  An'  I  knows  where  it"  is — de  shop,  I  mean.  And  so 
if  you'll  put  me  up  alongside  ob  de  driver  I  can  point  him  which 
way  to  go  an'  where  to  stop,"  said  Katie. 

This  proposition  was  agreed  to.  The  carriage  was  stopped 
and  Katie  was  let  out  and  enthroned  upon  the  seat  beside  the 
coachman,  a  Spaniard,  whom  she  proceeded  to  direct  more 
by  signs  and  gestures  than  by  words. 

After  a  very  circuitous  route  through  the  city  they  turned 
into  a  narrow  street  and  stopped  before  a  house  partly  con 
fectionery  and  partly  tobacco  shop. 


ON  THE  VISCOUNT'S  TEACK.  301 

They  alighted  and  went  in,  and  found  the  proprietor  doing 
duty  behind  his  counter. 

The  study  of  the  Spanish  language  had  been  one  of  the  few 
recreations  Ishmael  had  allowed  himself  in  his  self-denying 
youth.  He  had  afterwards  improved  his  opportunities  by 
speaking  the  language  with  such  Spaniards  as  he  met  in  so 
ciety  in  Washington.  He  therefore  now  addressed  the  tobac 
conist  in  that  tongue,  and  proceeded  to  explain  the  business 
that  brought  himself  and  his  friend  to  the  shop. 

The  tobacconist,  who  was  the  ordinary,  small,  lean,  yellow 
specimen  of  the  middle  class  of  Cubans,  courteously  invited  the 
"  senors  "  into  the  back  parlor,  where  they  all  seated  themselves 
and  entered  more  fully  into  the  subject,  Ishmael  acting  as  in 
terpreter  between  the  judge  and  the  tobacconist,  whose  name 
they  discovered  to  be  Marinello. 

Marinello  expressed  himself  very  much  shocked  to  find  that 
Ids  purchase  of  the  woman  was  illegal,  if  not  positively  fe 
lonious;  and  that  an  appeal  to  the  law  would  probably  deprive 
him  of  his  bargain,  and  possibly  criminate  him  as  the  accom 
plice  of  the  slave  stealer. 

He  said  that  he  had  given  eight  hundred  dollars  for  the 
woman  Katie,  who  had  been  extolled  by  the  trader  as  a  most 
extraordinary  cook.  And  a  "  most  extraordinary  "  one,  he  de 
clared,  he  found  her  to  be,  for  she  did  not  appear  to  know  beef 
from  mutton  or  rice  from  coffee.  And  in  fact  she  was  good  for 
nothing;  for  even  if  he  sent  her  on  an  errand,  as  on  this  occa 
sion,  she  would  stay  forever  and  one  day  after,  and  charge  her 
sloth  upon  her  infirmities.  She  had  been  a  bitter  bargain  to 
him. 

Judge  Merlin  smiled;  he  knew  Katie  to  be  one  of  the  best 
cooks  in  this  world  and  to  be  in  the  enjoyment  of  perfect  health, 
and  so  he  supposed  that  the  cunning  old  woman  had  taken  a 
lesson  from  the  sailor's  monkey,  who  could  talk,  but  wouldn't, 
for  fear  he  should  be  made  to  work.  And  that  she  had  feigned 
her  ignorance  and  ill  health  to  escape  hard  labor  for  one  who 
she  knew  could  have  no  just  claim  to  her  services. 

Ishmael,  speaking  for  Judge  Merlin,  now  explained  to  the 
tobacconist  that  this  woman  Katie  had  been  a  great  favorite 
with  the  mistress  from  whom  she  was  stolen;  that  they  were 
on  their  way  to  see  that  lady;  that  they  wished  to  take  the 
woman  with  them;  that  they  would  rather  repurchase  her  than 
lose  time  by  suing  to  recover  her;  and  finally,  that  they  were 


302        SELF-EAISED;  on,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

willing  to  give  him  back  the  money  that  he  had  paid  for  Katie^ 
provided  that  he  would  deliver  her  up  to  them  at  once. 

Marinello  immediately  came  to  terms  and  agreed  to  all  they 
proposed.  He  accompanied  them  back  to  the  hotel,  where  he 
received  eight  hundred  dollars  and  left  Katie. 

"  That  is  a  '  feat  accomplished,' "  said  Ishmael  gayly,  as  he 
returned  to  Judge  Merlin's  room,  after  seeing  Marinello  out; 
"  and  now  we  may  expect  Mr.  Tourneysee  every  moment." 

And  in  fact  while  he  spoke  the  door  was  opened  and  Mr. 
Tourneysee  was  announced. 

"  I  am  up  to  time,"  he  said,  smiling,  as  he  entered. 

"  With  dramatic  punctuality,"  said  Ishmael,  pointing  to  the 
clock  on  the  mantel-piece,  which  was  upon  the  stroke  of  three, 

"Yes,"  said  the  consul,  smiling. 

"  We  have  done  a  good  stroke  of  business  since  we  left  you. 
We  have  bought  Katie  back  from  her  new  master  at  the  same 
price  he  gave  for  her,  and  he  was  very  glad  to  get  out  of  the 
affair  so  happily,"  said  Ishmael. 

"  Ah !  that  was  prompt  indeed.  I  wish  you  equal  good  speed 
with  the  other  purchasers  of  stolen  slaves.  By  the  way,  where 
do  we  go  first  ?  " 

"I  think  we  had  best  call  on  the  lady  who  bought  the  girl 
Sally;  from  her — Sally,  I  mean — we  might  learn  the  name 
and  residence  of  the  gentleman  who  bought  Jim,  and  of  which 
we  are  at  present  in  ignorance." 

"Who  is  the  lady,  and  where  dees  she  live? " 

"We  do  not  know  her  name  either;  Katie  could  not  tell  us; 
but  she  lives  in  the  city,  and  Katie  can  direct  the  coachman 
where  to  drive.  And  now  as  the  carriage  is  at  the  door,  I 
think  we  had  better  start  at  once." 

"I  think  so,  too,"  said  the  judge. 

And  accordingly  the  whole  party  went  downstairs  and  re-en 
tered  the  carriage,  with  the  exception  of  Katie,  who  again 
mounted  the  box  beside  the  driver  for  the  purpose  of  directing 
him. 

Katie,  who  could  not,  if  it  were  to  save  her  life,  remember  the 
name  of  any  place  or  person  in  that  "  barbareous  "  land,  as  she 
called  it,  yet  possessed  the  canine  memory  of  localities;  so 
she  directed  the  coachman  tErougTTthe  shortest  cut  of  the  city 
towards  the  beautiful  suburb  Guadaloupe,  and  then  to  an  ele 
gant  mansion  of  white  granite,  standing  within  its  own  luxu 
riant  grounds. 


ON   THE    VISCOUNT7S   TRACK.  303 

On  seeing  the  carriage  draw  up  and  stop  before  the  gate  of 
this  aristocratic  residence,  the  young  consul  suddenly  changed 
color  and  said: 

"  This  is  the  palace  of  the  Senora  Donna  Eleanora  Pacheco, 
Countess  de  la  Santa  Cruz." 

"  You  know  this  lady  ? "  inquired  the  judge. 

Mr.  Tourneysee  bowed. 

The  porter  threw  open  the  great  gate,  and  the  carriage  rolled 
along  a  lovely  shaded  avenue,  up  before  the  white  marble  fa- 
gade  of  the  palace,  where  it  stopped. 

"  If  you  please,  I  will  send  your  cards  in  with  my  own.  As 
I  am  known  to  the  seno-ra,  it  may  insure  you  a  speedier 
audience." 

"  We  thank  you  very  much,"  said  Ishmael,  placing  his  own 
and  the  judge's  cards  in  the  hands  of  the  consul,  who  alighted, 
went  up  the  marble  steps  to  the  front  door,  and  rang. 

A  footman  opened  the  door,  took  in  the  cards,  and  after  a  few 
moments  returned. 

"  The  countess  will  see  the  senors,"  was  the  message  that  the 
consul  smilingly  brought  back  to  his  friends  in  the  carriage. 

Then  all  alighted  and  went  into  the  house. 

The  same  footman,  a  jet  black  young  negro,  in  gorgeous 
livery  of  purple  and  gold,  led  them  into  a  small,  elegantly  fur 
nished  reception  room,  where,  seated  on  a  sofa,  and  toying  with 
a  fan,  was  one  of  the  loveliest  little  dark-eyed  Creoles  that  ever 
was  seen. 

She  did  not  rise,  but  extended  her  hand  with  a  graceful  gest 
ure  and  gracious  smile  to  welcome  her  visitors. 

Tourneysee  advanced,  with  a  deep  and  reverential  bow,  that 
would  have  done  honor  to  the  gravest  and  most  courteous  hi 
dalgo  of  that  grave  and  courteous  people. 

"  Senora,"  he  said,  with  great  formality,  "  I  have  the  honor 
to  present  to  your  ladyship  Chief  Justice  Merlin,  of  the  United 
States  Supreme  Court.  Judge  Merlin,  the  Countess  de  la 
Santa  Cruz." 

The  judge  made  a  profound  bow,  which  the  lady  acknowledged 
by  a  gracious  bend  of  the  head. 

With  the  same  serious  and  stately  formality,  which  was  cer 
tainly  not  natural  to  the  young  Marylander,  but  which  was 
assumed  in  deference  to  the  grave  character  of  Spanish  eti 
quette,  Mr.  Tourneysee  next  presented: 

"  Mr.  Worth,  of  the  Washington  bar." 


304         SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

The  low  obeisance  of  this  visitor  was  received  with  even  a 
more  gracious  smile  than  had  been  vouchsafed  to  that  of  the 
judge. 

When  they  were  seated,  in  accordance  with  the  lady's  invi- 

•tation,  the  conversation  turned  upon  the  ordinary  topics  of  the 

V.day:  the  weather;  the  opera;  the  last  drawing  room  at  the 

Government  Palace;  the  new  Captain  General  and  his  beauti- 

If  ul  bride,  etc.,  etc.,  etc. 

The  judge  fidgeted;  Ishmael  was  impatient;  the  consul  per 
plexed.  It  was  necessary  to  speak  of  the  affair  that  brought 
them  there.  Yet  how  was  it  possible  without  offense  to  intro 
duce  any  topic  of  business  in  that  bower  of  beauty,  to  that  indo 
lent  Venus,  whose  only  occupation  was  to  toy  with  her  fan; 
whose  only  conversation  was  of  sunshine,  flowers,  music,  balls, 
and  brides? 

Clearly  neither  the  judge  nor  the  consul  had  the  courage  to 
obtrude  any  serious  subject  upon  her.  The  disagreeable  task 
was  at  length  assumed  by  Ishmael,  who  never  permitted  hinv 
self  to  shrink  from  a  duty  merely  because  it  was  an  unpleasant 
one. 

Taking  advantage,  therefore,  of  a  break  in  the  conversation, 
he  turned  to  the  lady  and,  speaking  with  grave  courtesy,  said : 

"  Will  the  senora  pardon  me  for  beseeching  her  attention  to 
an  affair  of  great  moment  which  has  brought  us  to  her  pres 
ence?" 

The  "  senora  "  lifted  her  long,  curled  lashes  until  they  touched 
her  brows,  and  opened  wide  her  large,  soft,  dark  eyes  in  childish 
wonder.  "  An  affair  of  great  moment ! "  What  could  it  be  ? 
A  masked  ball?  a  parlor  concert?  private  theatricals?  a — what? 
She  could  not  imagine.  Dropping  her  eyelids  demurely,  she 
answered  softly: 

"Proceed,  senor. 

Ishmael  then  briefly  explained  to  her  the  business  upon 
which  they  had  come. 

The  senora  was  as  sensible  as  she  was  beautiful,  and  as 
benevolent  as  she  was  sensible.  She  listened  to  the  story  of  the 
negroes'  abduction  with  as  much  sympathy  as  curiosity,  and 
at  the  end  of  the  narrative  she  exclaimed: 

"  What  villains  there  are  in  this  world !  " 

Ishmael  then  delicately  referred  to  their  wish  to  purchase  the 
girl  Sally. 

The  senora  promptly  assented  to  the  implied  desire. 


ON  THE  VISCOUNT'S  TKACK.  305 

"It  was  my  steward,  Miguel  Manello,  who  bought  her  for 
me.  I  did  not  particularly  want  her.  And  I  find  her  of  very 
little  use  to  me.  She  cannot  understand  one  word  that  is  said 
to  her.  And  she  does  nothing  from  morning  until  night  but 
weep,  weep,  weep  tears  enough  to  float  away  the  house." 

"  Poor  girl !  "  muttered  Ishmael. 

"  So  if  the  senor  wishes  to  recover  her  he  can  take  her  now, 
or  at  any  time." 

Ishmael  delicately  hinted  at  the  purchase  money. 

"  Oh,  1  know  nothing  about  such  matters.  I  will  send  my 
steward  to  wait  on  the  senor  at  his  hotel  this  evening.  The 
senor  can  then  arrange  the  matter  with  him." 

Ishmael  expressed  his  thanks,  arose,  and  bowed  as  if  to  take 
leave.  But  the  lady  waved  her  hand,  and  said  in  a  sweet  but 
peremptory  manner: 

"  Be  seated,  senor." 

With  another  inclination  of  the  head,  Ishmael  resumed  his 
seat.  The  lady  rang  a  silver  bell  that  stood  on  a  stand  at  hei 
right  hand  and  brought  to  her  presence  the  gorgeous,  sable 
footman. 

"  Serve  the  seiiors  with  refreshments,"  was  the  order  given 
and  promptly  obeyed. 

An  elegant  little  repast  was  set  before  them,  consisting  of 
delicious  coffee,  chocolate,  fresh  fruits,  cakes,  and  sweetmeats. 
And  only  when  they  had  done  full  justice  to  these  delicacies 
would  their  hostess  permit  them  to  retire. 

Again  Ishmael  bowed  with  profound  deference,  expressed  his 
thanks  on  the  part  of  himself  and  his  friends,  and  finally  took 
leave. 

On  going  from  the  room  they  noticed  a  person,  who,  from 
the  extreme  quietness  of  her  manner,  had  escaped  their  obser 
vation  until  this  moment.  She  was  a  woman  of  about  sixty 
years  of  age,  clad  in  the  habit  of  a  lay-sister  of  the  Benedictine 
Order,  and  seated  within  a  curtained  recess,  and  engaged  in 
reading  her  "  office."  She  was  probably  doing  duty  as  duenna 
to  the  beautiful  widow. 


306        SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FKOM  THE  DEPTHS, 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

STILL  ON  THE  TRACK. 

One  sole  desire,  one  passion  now  remains, 
To  keep  life's  fever  still  within  his  veins, — 
Vengeance!    Dire  vengeance  on  the  wretch  who  cast 
On  him  and  all  he  loved  that  ruinous  blast. 

—Moore. 

Our  party  drove  back  to  the  hotel  to  await  the  coming  of  the 
steward  with  Sally.  Mr.  Brudencll  had  not  yet  returned. 

Ishmael  sent  for  the  clerk  of  the  house  and  bespoke  proper 
accommodations  for  the  servants. 

But  Katie  rebelled,  and  protested  that  she  would  not  leave 
her  old  master  until  bedtime,  when  she  should  insist  upon  his 
locking  her  in  her  bedroom  and  taking  charge  of  the  key,  for 
fear  she  should  be  bewitched  and  stolen  again. 

At  about  six  o'clock  Miguel  Manello  arrived,  having  Sally  in 
charge.  According  to  instructions  left  with  the  waiters  they 
were  immediately  shown  up  to  the  apartments  of  Judge 
Merlin. 

Miguel  Manello,  a  little,  dried-up,  mahogany-colored  old 
man  with  blue-gray  hair,  came  in,  bowing  profoundly. 

Sally  followed  him,  but  suddenly  stopped,  opened  her  mouth 
and  eyes  as  wide  as  they  could  be  extended,  and  stood  dumb 
with  astonishment. 

As  she  could  not  speak  a  word  of  Spanish,  nor  the  steward  of 
English,  she  could  not  be  made  to  understand  where  he  was 
bringing  her.  So  she  had  not  the  remotest  suspicion  that  she 
was  approaching  her  master  until  she  actually  stood  in  his 
presence.  Astonishment  makes  people  break  into  exclamations; 
but  Sally  it  always  struck  speechless.  So  it  had  been  with  her 
when  the  viscount  and  his  accomplices  entered  her  room  that 
night  of  the  abduction.  So  it  was  with  her  now  that  she  was 
brought  unexpectedly  to  the  presence  of  the  beloved  old  master 
v  liom  she  had  never  hoped  to  see  again  on  this  side  of  the 
grave. 

How  long  she  might  have  remained  standing  there,  dum- 
founded,  had  she  not  been  interrupted,  is  not  known;  for  old 
Katie  made  a  dash  forward,  caught  her  in  an  embrace,  kissed 
her,  burst  into  tears,  and  said: 

"  Oh,  Sally,  it  is  all  come  right!    Ole  marster  done  come  hero 


STILL   ON   THE   TRACK  307 

and  he  gwine  to  buy  us  all  back  and  take  us  to  ray  ladyship,  and 
we  gwine  be  witness  ag'in  my  lordship  and  de  sham-vally — 
which  I  hopes  dey'll  be  hung,  and  likewise  de  whited  saltpeter 
as  is  de  wuss  ob  de  t'ree !  " 

The  tears  began  to  steal  down  poor  Sally's  cheeks  and  she 
looked  appealingly  from  old  Katie  to  Judge  Meiliii  and  Ishmael, 
as  if  to  entreat  confirmation  of  the  good  news. 

"  It  is  all  quite  true,  Sally.  You  are  to  return  to  England 
with  us,  and  then,  I  hope,  we  shall  all  come  back  to  old  Mary 
land,  never  to  leave  it  again,"  said  Ishmael. 

"  Oh,  Marse  Ishmael,  dat  would  be  like  coming  out'n  pur 
gatory  into  heaben !  Thank  de  Lord !  "  fervently  exclaimed  the 
girl,  while  tears — tears  of  joy — now  streamed  down  her  cheeks. 

"  There,  now,  Sally ;  go  with  your  aunty  into  the  next  room, 
and  have  a  glorious  old  talk,  while  we  settle  some  business  with 
the  steward,"  said  Ishmael,  pointing  to  the  door  of  the  ante 
room. 

When  they  had  retired  he  beckoned  the  steward  to  approach. 
Miguel  Manello  advanced  with  a  series  of  genuflexions,  and 
laid  upon  the  table  a  document  which  proved  to  be  a  bill  of 
sale  for  the  girl,  Sally. 

"  The  senor  will  perceive,"  be  said,  "  that  I  paid  the  trader 
twelve  hundred  dollars  for  the  negress.  My  mistress,  the 
Sefiora  Donna  Eleanora  Pacheco,  has  instructed  me  to  deliver 
the  girl  up  to  the  senor  at  his  own  price.  But  the  senor  will 
not,  perhaps,  object  to  paying  the  same  sum  I  paid  for  the  girl." 

"  Certainly  not,"  answered  Ishmael. 

Judge  Merlin  produced  the  money,  and  the  sale  was  imme 
diately  effected.  The  steward  took  up  his  hat  to  depart,  but 
Ishmael  made  a  sign  for  him  to  stop. 

"  You  were  present  at  the  sale  of  this  girl  ? " 

"  Assuredly,  senor ;  since  I  purchased  her." 

"  There  was  an  old  woman  sold  at  the  same  time  ? " 

"Yes,  senor;  the  one  that  I  found  in  here." 

"  Exactly.    There  was  also  a  young  man  ? " 

"Yes,  senor." 

"  Can  you  tell  me  who  became  his  purchaser? " 

"  Certainly,  senor.  He  was  bought  by  the  Senor  Don  Filipo 
Martinez,  who  lives  in  the  Suburb  Regla." 

"  Can  you  give  me  directions  how  to  find  the  place  ? " 

"  Certainly,  senor.  I  will  write  it  down,  if  the  seuor  will 
permit  me  the  use  of  his  writing-case." 


308         SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

Ishmael  placed  a  chair  at  the  table,  and  signed  for  the  stew 
ard  to  take  it.  Miguel  Manello  sat  down,  wrote  out  the  direc 
tions,  handed  them  to  Ishmael,  and  then  with  a  deep  bow  took 
his  leave. 

When  they  were  alone  Ishmael  said: 

"  The  Suburb  Regla  is  on  the  other  side  of  the  harbor.  We 
cannot  with  propriety  visit  it  this  evening.  In  the  morning 
we  will  set  out  early.  We  must  either  make  a  long  circuit  by 
land,  or  else  take  the  shorter  cut  across  the  harbor.  I  think 
the  last  mentioned  the  best  plan." 

"  I  agree  with  you,"  said  the  judge ;  "  but  I  fear  we  are  greatly 
trespassing  on  the  time  and  the  official  duties  of  our  friend,"  he 
added,  turning  with  a  smile  to  the  consul. 

"  Oh,  not  at  all !  I  am  sufficiently  attentive  to  my  business 
to  afford  to  take  a  day  now  and  then,  when  necessity  demands 
it,"  replied  Mr.  Tourneysee  pleasantly,  as  he  arose  and  bid  his 
friends  good-evening. 

He  had  scarcely  left  the  scene  when  the  door  opened  and 
the  truant,  Herman  Brudenell,  entered. 

"  You  are  a  pretty  fellow  to  back  your  friends.  Here  we  have 
been  overwhelmed  with  business  and  beset  with  adventures, 
and  you  gone ! "  exclaimed  the  judge,  whose  spirits  were  much 
elated  with  the  successes  of  the  day.  "Give  an  account  of 
yourself,  sir ! "  he  added. 

"  Well,"  said  Mr.  Brudenell,  throwing  himself  into  a  chair 
and  setting  his  hat  upon  the  table  with  a  wearied,  but  cheerful 
air,  "I  have  been  walking  around  the  city  to  see  all  that  was 
interesting  in  it.  I  visited  the  cathedral,  where  the  ashes  of 
Columbus  repose;  saw  the  Government  Palace;  the  Admiralty; 
the  Royal  Tobacco  Factory;  several  interesting  old  churches, 
and  so  forth.  Last  of  all,  I  ran  up  against  a  very  dear  friend 
of  mine,  whose  acquaintance  I  made  at  the  court  of  Queen  Isa 
bella  when  I  was  at  Madrid,  some  years  ago.  And  Don  Filipo 
insisted  on  my  returning  home  with  him  to  the  Suburb  Regla, 
where  he  has  a  beautiful  house  standing  in  the  midst  of 
equally  beautiful  grounds.  Well,  I  dined  there;  and  I  got  away 
as  soon  after  dinner  as  I  decently  could." 

" '  Don  Filipo  ?  Suburb  Regla  ? '  "  repeated  Judge  Merlin,  as 
his  thoughts  ran  upon  the  purchaser  of  the  negro  boy  Jim. 

"  Yes.    Do  you  know  him  ?    Sefior  Don  Filipo  Martinez " 

"No,  not  personally;  we  have  heard  of  him,  though.  Sit 
still,  Brudenell,  I  have  got  something  to  tell  you.  We  have 


STILL    ON   THE   TKACK.  309 

met  some  old  acquaintances  also  since  you  left  us,"  said  the 
judge. 

"  Ah,  who  are  they  ?    The  Tourneysees,  I  presume." 

"We  have  met  the  Tourneysees  of  course;  but  we  have  met 
others." 

"  Then  you  will  have  to  tell  me,  judge,  for  I  should  never 
be  able  to  guess  among  your  thousands  of  friends  and  acquaint 
ances  who  were  the  individuals  encountered  here." 

"  What  would  you  say  to  me  if  I  should  tell  you  that  Ishmael 
met  our  old  Katie  in  the  street  and  brought  her  hither?" 

"I  should  say  that  you  or  I  were  mad  or  dreaming,"  said 
Mr.  Brudenell,  staring  at  the  judge. 

"  And  yet  I  tell  you  the  sober  truth.  That  infamous  villain, 
Malcolm,  Lord  Vincent,  taking  advantage  of  the  opportunities 
afforded  by  his  residence  on  a  remote  part  of  the  sea  coast, 
and  his  connection  with  a  crew  of  smugglers,  actually  suc 
ceeded  in  kidnaping  Lady  Vincent's  three  servants  and  selling 
them  to  the  trader,  who  brought  them  to  this  island  and  sold 
them  again." 

"  Am  I  awake  ? "  exclaimed  Mr.  Brudenell,  in  amazement. 

"As  much  as  any  of  us,  I  suppose.  There  are  times  when 
I  fancy  myself  in  a  strange  dream." 

"  What  could  have  been  the  man's  motive  for  such  a 
crime?" 

"  Partly,  no  doubt,  cupidity ;  for  he  is  as  mean  as  marsh 
mud!  partly  revenge;  for  he  hates  these  negroes  for  their  de 
votion  to  their  mistress;  but  mostly  caution;  for  one  of  these 
negroes  became  possessed  of  a  secret  compromising  the  reputa 
tion,  and  even  the  personal  liberty  of  the  viscount." 

"  Good  Heavens !  I  never  heard  of  such  a  transaction  in  all 
my  life.  Do  give  me  the  particulars  of  this  affair." 

"By  and  by.  Just  now  I  must  tell  you  that,  with  the  aid 
of  our  consul,  who  has  just  left  us,  we  have  ferreted  out  the  pur 
chasers  of  the  negroes,  and  we  have  just  repurchased  two  of 
them — old  Katie  and  Sally ;  who  are  at  this  present  moment  in 
the  next  room,  enjoying  their  reunion." 

"  But — why  the  deuce  did  you  repurchase  these  negroes,  when 
by  appealing  to  the  law,  and  proving  their  felonious  abduction 
and  illegal  sale,  you  might  have  recovered  possession  of  them 
without  paying  a  dollar  ? " 

"Yes,  I  might;  but  then  again  I  mightn't,  as  the  children 
say.  In  the  first  impetuosity  of  my  anger,  at  discovering  these 


310        SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  TIIE  DEPTHS. 

crimes,  I  would  have  instantly  sued  for  the  recovery  of  the 
negroes,  and  sought  out  and  prosecuted  the  traders,  had  it  not 
been  for  Ishmael.  God  bless  that  young  man,  how  much  I  owe 
him!  He  interposed  his  warning  voice  and  wise  counsels.  He 
indicated  several  questionable  features  in  the  case,  that  would 
make  the  issue  of  any  lawsuit  that  I  might  bring  for  the  re 
covery  of  the  negroes  very  uncertain.  He  reminded  me  that 
if  I  involved  myself  in  any  lawsuit,  either  civil  or  criminal,  it 
would  detain  me  on  the  island  for  weeks  or  months,  while  it  is 
of  the  utmost  importance  that  I  should  be  at  the  side  of  my  in 
jured  child.  I  could  but  acknowledge  the  truth  and  justice  of 
his  argument,  and  therefore  I  have,  at  some  sacrifice  of  money 
and  temper,  repurchased  the  negroes." 

"  And  looking  at  the  affair  from  Ishmael's  point  of  view,  I 
think  you  have  done  quite  right,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Brudenell. 

"And  there  is  another  consideration,"  put  in  Ishmael. 
"  Judge  Merlin  mentioned  tc  you,  as  one  of  the  motives  that 
instigated  Vincent  to  the  perpetration  of  the  crime,  the  fear  of 
the  negroes,  who  had  become  possessed  of  a  secret  involving 
the  liberty  of  the  viscount.  This  secret  was  neither  more  nor 
less  than  the  knowledge  of  a  conspiracy  formed  by  the  viscount 
and  two  of  his  accomplices  against  the  honor  of  Lady  Vincent. 
Thus,  you  see,  it  is  absolutely  necessary  that  these  negroes 
should  be  taken  to  England  without  delay  as  witnesses " 

"  In  the  divorce  trial,  certainly." 

"No;  not  in  the  divorce  trial;  though  their  testimony  in 
such  a  trial  would  be  conclusive  for  the  lady.  But  we  wish,  if 
possible,  to  prevent  the  divorce  trial.  We  will  not  have  the 
daughter  of  Randolph  Merlin  assailed  in  such  unseemly  man 
ner.  No  woman,  however  innocent  she  may  be,  comes  out  un- 
scarred  from  such  •  a  struggle;  for  the  simple  reason  that  the 
bare  fact  of  such  a  suit  having  brought  against  her  attaches  a 
life-long  reproach  to  her." 

"  There  is  truth  in  what  you  say,  Ishmael,  but  I  do  not  see 
how  the  trial  is  to  be  avoided,  since  Lord  Vincent  is  determined 
to  sue  for  a  dissolution  of  his  marriage." 

"  In  this  way,  sir.  By  placing  Lord  Vincent  hors-du-combat 
at  the  very  onset.  When  we  reach  Edinboro'  our  first  visit  will 
be  to  a  magistrate's  office,  where  we  will  lodge  information  and 
cause  warrants  to  be  issued  for  the  arrest  of  Lord  Vincent  and 
his  accomplices  upon  the  charge  of  conspiracy  and  kidnaping. 
Do  you  suppose  that  Lord  Vincent,  lodged  in  jail  and  awaiting 


STILL    ON   THE   TRACK.  311 

his  trial  for  abduction  and  conspiracy,  will  be  in  a  condition  to 
prosecute  his  suit  for  divorce  ?  " 

"  Certainly  not.  I  see  that  you  are  right,  Ishmael.  But  poor 
Claudia!  In  any  case,  how  she  must  suffer." 

"  Heaven  comfort  her !  Yes.  But  we  chose  the  least  of  two 
evils  for  her.  Delivered  from  the  fiend  who  has  tormented  her 
for  so  long  a  time,  and  restored  to  her  native  country  and  to 
the  bosom  of  her  family,  we  will  hope  that  Lady  Vincent's 
youth  will  enable  her  to  rally  from  the  depressing  influences  of 
these  early  troubles,  and  that  she  will  yet  regain  her  peace  and 
cheerfulness." 

"  Heaven  grant  it,  Heaven  grant  it ! "  said  the  judge  fer 
vently.  "  Oh,  Ishmael,"  he  continued,  "  when  I  think  that  I 
shall  have  my  child  back  again,  I  almost  feel  reconciled  to  the 
storm  of  sorrow  that  must  drive  her  for  shelter  into  my  arms. 
Is  that  selfish?  I  do  not  know.  But  I  do  know  that  I  shall 
love  her  more,  indulge  her  more  than  I  ever  did  before.  She 
must,  she  shall  be,  satisfied  and  happy  with  me." 

Ishmael  pressed  his  hand  in  silent  sympathy,  and  then  to  di 
vert  his  thoughts  from  a  subject  fraught  with  so  much  emotion 
he  said: 

"  It  occurs  to  me,  judge,  to  say  that  Mr.  Brudenell  will  proba 
bly  be  able  very  much  to  facilitate  our  negotiations  with  his 
friend,  Den  Filipo." 

"  Yes,  I  should  think  he  would,"  replied  the  judge,  with  diffi 
culty  tearing  his  thoughts  from  the  image  of  his  daughter  re 
stored  to  his  home,  sitting  by  his  fireside,  or  at  the  head  of  the 
table ;  "  yes,  I  should  think  Brudenell  would  be  able  to  smooth 
our  way  in  that  quarter." 

"What  is  that,  Ishmael?  What  are  you  both  talking  of  in 
connection  with  myself  and  friend  ? "  demanded  Mr.  Brudenell. 

"Why,  sir,  your  friend,  Senor  Don  Filipo  Martinez,  is  just 
precisely  the  same  gentleman  who  became  the  purchaser  of  the 
boy  Jim.  We  intend  to  pay  him  a  visit  to-morrow,  for  the  pur 
pose  of  trying  to  repurchase  the  boy.  It  is  rather  a  delicate 
matter  to  propose  to  a  Spanish  hidalgo;  and  therefore  we  feel 
very  much  pleased  to  find  that  he  is  a  friend  of  yours,  and  we 
nope  that  your  introduction  will  recommend  us  to  a  favorable 
hearing." 

"  Certainly,  I  will  go  with  you  and  introduce  you.  But  I  do 
not  think  your  cause  needs  my  advocacy;  and  I  am  very  much 
oxistaken  in  my  estimation  of  Don  Filipo's  character,  if  when 


312         SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

he  has  heard  all  the  facts  he  does  not  at  once  deliver  the  negro 
boy  into  your  hands  and  decline  to  accept  any  payment." 

"  But  to  that  I  would  never  consent,"  said  the  judge. 

"I  do  not  see  how  you  can  help  it,  if  you  cannot  get  your 
witness  on  any  other  terms.  Don  Filipo  is  a  Spanish  noble 
man  ;  he  has  high  ideas  of  honor.  The  manner  in  which  he  will 
look  upon  this  affair  will  be  probably  this — he  will  see  that  he 
has  been  deceived  into  the  purchase  of  stolen  property,  and 
into  a  sort  of  unconscious  complicity  with  the  thieves.  He  will 
drop  the  property  '  like  a  hot  potato,'  as  the  Irish  say.  In  other 
words,  he  would  consider  his  honor  ineffaceably  stained  by 
either  keeping  the  boy  on  the  one  hand  or  receiving  any  pay 
ment  on  the  other.  Don  Filipo  would  lose  ten  times  the  amount 
of  the  purchase  money  rather  than  suffer  the  shadow  of  a  shade 
of  reproach  to  rest  for  one  instant  on  his  'scutcheon." 

"  I  think  if  it  is  as  Mr.  Brudenell  says,  judge,  that  you  had 
better  not  make  any  difficulty  about  this  *  point  of  honor '  with 
the  Senor  Don  Filipo.  Get  the  negro  back  on  his  own  terms. 
Afterwards,  when  you  reach  England  you  can  easily  and  deli 
cately  remunerate  him  by  sending  him  a  complimentary  pres 
ent  of  equal  or  greater  value  than  the  purchase  money  he  re 
fuses,  supposing  that  he  does  refuse  it,"  said  Ishmael. 

"He  will  refuse  it,"  persisted  Mr.  Brudenell. 

"  That  will  do,  Ishmael.  You  have  shown  me  a  way  out  of 
this  difficulty.  And  now  suppose  we  ring  for  supper  ?  We  have 
had  nothing  since  breakfast  except  the  light  repast  set  before 
us  by  the  Sefiora  Donna — et  cetera." 

Ishmael  touched  the  bell,  which  brought  up  a  waiter.  Judge 
Merlin  ordered  supper  to  be  served  immediately.  When  it  was 
ready  he  called  in  Katie  and  Sally  to  wait  on  the  table — to  re 
mind  him  of  old  times,  he  said. 

After  supper  he  sent  for  the  housekeeper  and  gave  his  two 
female  servants  into  her  charge,  requesting  her  to  see  that 
their  wants  were  supplied.  And  Katie,  now  that  she  had  Sally 
with  her,  went  away  willing  enough  without  insisting  on  being 
locked  in  her  bedchamber  for  safe-keeping.  And  soon  after  this 
our  wearied  party  separated  and  retired  to  rest. 

The  next  morning,  directly  after  an  early  breakfast,  they  set 
off  for  the  Suburb  Regla,  calling  on  their  way  at  the  office  of  the 
consul,  to  discharge  that  gentleman  from  the  duty  of  accom 
panying  them;  a  measure  now  rendered  unnecessary  by  the  pres 
ence  of  Mr.  Brudenell,  and  the  fact  of  the  latter  being  an  inti- 


STILL   ON   THE   TRACK.  313 

mate  friend  of  Don  Filipo,  and  therefore  quite  competent  to 
indorse  these  strangers. 

Mr.  Tourneysee  was  excessively  busy,  and  was  very  glad  to 
be  released  from  his  promise  to  attend  his  friends.  He  gave 
them,  however,  his  best  wishes  for  their  success,  bid  them 
adieu,  and  suffered  them  to  depart. 

i  It  was  about  eleven  o'clock  in  the  forenoon  when  they 
reached  the  residence  of  Don  Filipo.  It  was  an  imposing  edi 
fice,  built  of  white  granite,  and  standing  within  its  own  spa 
cious  grounds.  A  broad  avenue,  paved  with  granite,  and  shaded 
with  tropical  trees,  led  up  to  the  front  of  the  house. 

Arrived  here,  Mr.  Brudenell  alighted  from  his  carriage,  rang 
the  doorbell,  and  sent  in  the  cards  of  his  party  with  his  own. 
In  a  few  minutes  they  were  admitted  by  a  mulatto  footman, 
in  rich  though  plain  livery,  who  conducted  them  to  a  handsome 
library,  where  Don  Filipo  stood  ready  to  receive  them. 

The  SerLor  Don  Filipo  Martinez,  Marquis  de  la  Santo  Es- 
pirito,  was  not  a  Creole.  That  any  spectator  might  know  at  a 
glance.  He  was,  as  has  been  said,  a  Spanish  hidalgo,  of  the 
glorious  old  Castilian  order.  He  had  been  born  and  brought 
up  near  the  Court  of  Madrid;  he  had  graced  an  enviable  posi 
tion  about  the  person  of  his  sovereign;  and  lately,  he  had  been 
sent  out  to  fill  a  responsible  office  in  the  government  of  the 
island.  He  was  even  now  talked  of  as  the  next  Captain  General. 

He  was  a  very  distinguished-looking  man,  somewhat  past 
middle  age,  with  a  tall,  finely  proportioned  though  very  spare 
form;  a  long,  thin  face,  Roman  nose,  piercing  black  eyes,  heavy 
black  eyebrows,  olive  complexion,  and  iron-gray  hair  and  beard. 

He  advanced  with  grave  and  stately  courtesy  to  welcome  his 
visitors,  whom  Mr.  Brudenell  presented  in  due  order. 

When  they  were  all  seated,  Mr.  Brudenell  undertook  at  once 
to  introduce  the  subject  of  the  business  upon  which  they  had 
come. 

Don  Filipo  gave  the  speaker  his  most  serious  attention,  and 
heard  the  narrative  with  surprise  and  mortification,  somewhat 
modified  by  his  habitual  and  dignified  self-restraint. 

At  its  conclusion,  he  turned  to  Judge  Merlin,  and  said: 

"  I  am  deeply  grieved,  senor,  in  having  done  you,  however  un 
consciously,  so  great  a  wrong.  I  must  pray  you  to  accept  my 
apologies,  and  the  only  atonement  I  can  make  you — the  resti* 
tution  of  your  slave." 

"  Sir,  I  am  pained  that  you  should  accuse  yourself  so  un- 


314         SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

justly;  I  cannot  feel  that  you  have  done  me  any  wrong,  or  owe 
me  any  apology,  or  restitution.  I  shall  be  very  glad  to  get  the 
boy  back;  and  I  thank  you  heartily  for  your  willingness  to 
give  him  up.  But  I  am  quite  willing  and  ready  to  refund  to 
you  the  purchase  money  paid  for  him,"  said  Judge  Merlin. 

"  Sefior,  it  is  impossible  for  me  to  receive  it,"  answered  Don  j 
Filipo  gravely.  i 

"  But,  sir,  I  cannot  think  of  permitting  you  to  be  the  loser 
by  this  transaction.  I  really  must  insist  upon  you  accepting 
the  purchase  money." 

"  Sefior,  it  is  impossible  for  me  to  do  so,"  very  gravely  re 
plied  Don  Filipo. 

"  But,  my  dear  sir.  pray  reflect.  You  have  actually  disbursed 
ft  large  sum  of  money  in  the  purchase  of  this  boy.  I  do  but 
offer  you  your  own.  I  pray  you  accept  it." 

"  It  is  impossible,  senor,"  very,  very  gravely  replied  the 
Spaniard. 

And  at  that  moment  Judge  Merlin  caught  the  eye  of  Ishmael 
fixed  upon  him  with  an  anxious  gaze.  This  gaze  caused  Judge 
Merlin  to  glance  up  at  the  face  of  his  interlocutor. 

The  countenance  of  Don  Filipo  had  assumed  a  severe  and 
haughty  aspect,  although  his  words  and  tones  were  still  cour 
teous  and  gentle,  as  he  repeated : 

"It  is  impossible,  senor." 

And  then  Judge  Merlin  seemed  to  understand  that  to  con 
tinue  to  press  money  upon  this  proud  old  Castilian  nobleman 
would  be  simply  to  insult  him. 

With  a  deep  bow,  he  said: 

"I  yield  the  point  to  you,  Senor  Don  Filipo.  And  must  re 
main  your  debtor  for  this  great  favor." 

The  stern  face  of  the  old  Castilian  melted  into  a  fascinating 
smile,  as  he  offered  his  hand  to  the  judge,  and  said  courteously : 

"  I  esteem  myself  happy  in  being  able  to  restore  to  the  senor 
his  slave.  The  boy  is  absent  now  exercising  my  favorite  saddle 
horse;  but  as  soon  as  he  returns  he  shall  be  sent  to  the 
senor." 

Our  party  then  arose  to  depart;  but  Don  Filipo  would  not 
allow  them  to  go  before  they  had  partaken  of  a  tempting  repast 
of  cakes,  fruits,  sweetmeats,  and  wine. 

Then,  with  a  real  regret  at  parting  with  this  "fine  eld 
Spanish  gentleman,"  they  took  leave  and  returned  to  their 
hotel. 


STILL    ON   THE   TRACK.  315 

In  the  course  of  the  afternoon  Jim  arrived  in  the  custody  of 
Don  Filipo's  steward,  and  was  regularly  delivered  over  to  the 
safe-keeping  of  Judge  Merlin. 

The  meeting  of  poor  Jim  with  his  old  master  and  friends, 
and  with  his  mother  and  his  sweetheart,  was  at  once  so  touch 
ing  and  so  absurd,  that  it  inclined  the  spectator  at  the  same  time 
to  tears  and  laughter. 

"  Now,"  said  Judge  Merlin,  as  they  sat  together  in  his  room3 
that  evening,  "  our  work  is  over.  And  this  is  Tuesday  evening, 
and  we  cannot  sail  until  Saturday  morning!  What  the  deuce 
shall  we  do  with  the  three  intervening  days  ? " 

"  To-morrow,"  answered  Ishmael,  "  we  had  better  see  to  pro 
viding  ourselves  with  an  outfit  for  the  voyage.  Remember  that 
since  our  wardrobe  was  lost  on  the  '  Oceana,'  we  have  had  noth 
ing  but  the  single  change  provided  us  by  the  captain  of  the 
*  Santiago.' " 

"  True,  we  must  have  an  outfit.  The  purchase  of  that  will 
occupy  one  day;  but  there  will  be  still  two  left  to  dispose  of." 

"  On  Thursday  we  can  spend  the  morning  in  seeing  whatever 
is  interesting  in  the  city  and  its  suburbs,  and  in  the  evening 
you  know  we  are  engaged  to  dine  with  Mr.  Tourneysee." 

"  Exactly !    But  what  shall  we  do  on  Friday?  " 

"  Continue  our  sight-seeing  through  the  city  in  the  morn 
ing,  and  have  Mr.  Tourneysee  and  the  Senor  Don " 

"  Et  cetera,  to  dine  with  us  in  the  evening.  Is  that  what 
you  mean,  Ishmael  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  That  will  do  then.  Now  we  will  go  to  bed,"  said  the  judge, 
rising  and  taking  his  bedroom  candle. 

And  that  was  the  signal  for  the  party  to  disperse  and  go  to 
rest. 

The  remainder  of  the  week  was  passed  in  the  manner  sketched 
out  by  Ishmael.  Nevertheless  the  three  days  of  waiting  seemed 
to  the  anxious  father  of  Claudia  three  years  in  length.  On 
Saturday  morning  our  whole  party,  consisting  now  of  three 
gentlemen  and  four  servants,  embarked  on  the  "  Cadiz "  for 
Europe. 

Mr.  Tourneysee  and  Don  Filipo  "  Et  cetera,"  as  the  judge 
called  him,  accompanied  them  to  the  steamer,  and  remained 
with  them  to  the  latest  possible  moment.  Then  with  many 
fervent  wishes  for  their  prosperity  in  the  voyage,  the  two  gen 
tlemen  took  leave  of  our  party  and  went  on  shore.  The  steamer 


316        SELF-RAISED;  OB,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

sailed  at  nine  o'clock.  When  it  was  well  under  way  Ishmael 
looked  around  among  his  fellow-passengers,  and  was  pleased 
to  recognize  many  of  the  companions  of  his  disastrous  voyage 
on  the  "  Oceana."  Among  the  others  was  the  family  of  Dr. 
Kerr.  Later  in  the  day,  as  Ishmael  and  his  shadow,  the  pro 
fessor,  were  standing  leaning  over  the  bulwarks  of  the  ship 
and  watching  the  setting  sun  sink  into  the  water,  leaving  a 
trail  of  light  upon  the  surface  of  the  sea,  he  heard  a  familiar 
voice  exclaim: 

"Fader  Abraham!  Tere  ish  tat  yunk  shentleman  ant  hish' 
olt  man  again  I  " 

And  Ishmael  turned  and  saw  the  German  Jew  standing  near 
him.  Ishmael  smiled  and  held  out  his  hand;  and  Isaacs  came 
and  grasped  it,  expressing  his  pleasure  in  having  "  von  drue 
shentleman"  for  his  fellow-passenger  once  more.  And  from 
this  day  quite  a  friendship  grew  up  between  the  young  Christian 
and  the  old  Jew.  Without  making  the  least  effort  to  do  so, 
Ishmael  won  his  entire  confidence. 

Isaacs,  reserved  and  uncommunicative  with  everyone  else, 
seemed  to  find  pleasure  in  talking  to  Ishmael. 

Among  other  voluntary  revelations,  Isaacs  informed  Ishmael 
that  he  was  going  to  England  to  see  his  niece,  who  was  "  von 
gread  laty."  She  was  the  daughter,  he  said,  of  his  only  sister, 
who  had  been  the  wife  of  a  rich  English  Jew.  She  had  married 
an  Englishman  of  high  rank;  but  her  husband,  as  well  as  her 
father  and  mother,  was  dead;  all  were  dead;  and  she  was 
living  in  widowhood  and  loneliness ;  and,  ah !  a  great  wrong  had 
been  done  her!  And  here  the  Jew  would  sigh  dismally  and 
shake  his  head. 

Now  Ishmael,  in  the  delicacy  of  his  nature,  would  receive 
all  the  Jew's  voluntary  communications  and  sympathize  with 
all  his  complaints,  without  ever  asking  him  a  question.  And 
thus,  as  the  Jew  never  happened  to  mention  the  name  of  his 
niece,  and  Ishmael  never  inquired  it,  he  remained  in  ignorance 
of  it. 

The  voyage  of  the  "Cadiz,"  considering  the  season  of  the 
year,  might  be  said  to  have  been  very  prosperous.  The  weather 
continued  clear,  with  a  light  wind  from  the  northwest,  alternat 
ing  with  calms.  Our  party  having  served  out  their  time  at 
seasickness  on  the  "  Oceana,"  were  not  called  to  suffer  any  more 
from  that  malady  on  this  voyage. 

On  the  fourteenth  day  out  they  arrived  at  Cadi?,  whence 


CLAUDIA   AT   CAMEKON   COURT.  31 7 

took  a  steamer  bound  for  Liverpool,  where  they  landed  on  the 
first  of  February,  late  in  the  night. 

They  went  to  a  hotel  to  spend  the  remaining  hours  in  sleep. 
And  the  next  morning,  after  a  hurried  breakfast,  eaten  by  can- 
dlelight>  they  took  the  express  train  for  Edinboro*. 


CHAPTER  XXXVUI. 

CLAUDIA  AT  CAMERON  COURT. 

Sweet  are  the  paths — oh,  passing  swe«tt 

By  Esk's  fair  streams  that  run 
O'er  airy  steep,  thro'  copsewood  deep, 

Impervious  to  the  sun. 

There  the  rapt  poet's  step  may  rove, 

And  yield  the  muse  the  day; 
There  beauty  led  by  timid  love 

May  shun  the  tell-tale  ray. 

— Scott. 

Cameron  Court,  the  favorite  seat  of  Berenice,  Countess  of 
Hurstmonceux,  was  situated  about  seven  miles  south  of  Edin- 
boro',  on  the  north  banks  of  the  Esk.  It  was  an  elegant  modern 
edifice,  raised  upon  the  ruins  of  an  ancient  castle,  overhanging 
a  perpendicular  precipice,  with  a  sheer  descent  of  several 
hundred  feet  to  the  river.  It  looked  down  upon  the  course  of 
the  Esk,  winding  between  rocks  of  lofty  height,  whose  sides 
were  fringed  with  a  tangled  mass  of  shrubs,  ferns,  and  thistles, 
and  whose  summits  were  crowned  with  thickets  of  hazel,  pine, 
and  birch.  On  still  higher  ground,  behind  the  house,  and 
sheltering  it  from  the  northern  blast,  stood  a  thick  wood  of 
cedar,  beech,  and  fir  trees.  Many  winding  footpaths  led  through 
this  wood,  and  down  the  rocks  and  along  the  edge  of  the  river. 
A  wilder,  more  picturesque  and  romantic  spot  could  scarcely 
have  been  found  for  a  dwelling-place. 

In  summer,  green  with  foliage,  bright  with  blooming  flowers, 
and  musical  with  singing  birds  and  purling  brooks,  it  was  beau 
tiful!  But  in  winter,  bound  in  ice,  mantled  with  snow,  and 
gemmed  with  frost,  it  was  sublime! 

Such  was  the  aspect  of  the  place  without;  while  within  were 
collected  all  the  comforts,  luxuries,  and  elegances  that  wealth, 
taste,  and  intellect  could  command. 

Within  a  short  distance  of  this  charming  residence  stood 


318  SELF-RAISED  J   OK,    FROM   THE   DEPTHS. 

Craigmillar  Castle,  an  old  ruin,  memorable  from  having  been 
the  first  residence  of  Mary  Queen  of  Scots  after  her  return 
from  France;  and  also  her  favorite  retreat  when  driven  to  seek 
repose  from  the  clashing  antagonisms  of  her  court  at  Holy- 
rood. 

Nearer  still,  on  the  banks  of  the  Esk,  stood  Roslyn  Castle 
and  Chapel,  famous  in  song  and  story  for  "  the  lordly  line  of 
high  St.  Clair  " ;  and  Hawthornden,  remarkable  for  its  enormous 
artificial  caves,  hewn  out  of  the  solid  foundation  rocks,  and 
used  as  a  place  of  refuge  during  the  barbarous  wars  of  by-gone 
ages;  and  many  other  interesting  monuments  of  history  and 
tradition. 

To  this  attractive  home  Lady  Hurstmonceux  had  brought 
Claudia  late  one  winter  afternoon. 

At  that  hour,  between  the  thickness  of  the  Scotch  mist  and 
the  low,  gathering  shadows  of  the  night,  but  little  could  be 
Been  or  surmised  of  the  scenery  surrounding  the  house. 

But  Claudia  keenly  appreciated  the  comfort  and  elegance  of 
the  well-warmed  and  brightly  lighted  rooms  within. 

Not  that  they  were  more  luxurious  or  more  splendid  than 
those  she  had  left  forever  behind  at  Castle  Cragg,  but  they 
were — oh,  so  different! 

There  all  the  magnificence  was  tainted  with  the  presence  of 
guilt;  here  all  was  pure  with  innocence.  There  she  had  been 
"  under  the  curse " ;  here  she  was  "  under  the  benediction." 
There  she  had  been  tormented  by  a  devil;  here  she  was  com 
forted  by  an  angel.  And  this  is  scarcely  putting  the  compari 
son,  as  it  existed  in  her  experience,  too  strongly. 

Even  when  she  had  been  alone  and  unprotected  at  the  hotel, 
she  had  experienced  a  rebound  of  spirits  from  long  depression, 
a  joyous  sense  of  freedom — only  from  the  single  cause  of  getting 
away  from  Castle  Cragg  and  its  sinful  inmates.  But  now, 
added  to  that  were  the  pleasure  of  friendship,  the  comfort  of 
sympathy,  and  security  of  protection.  Relief,  repose,  satis 
faction — these  were  the  sensations  of  Claudia  in  taking  up  her 
temporary  abode  at  Cameron  Court.  The  very  first  evening 
seemed  a  festive  one  to  her,  who  had  been  so  lonely,  so  wretched, 
and  so  persecuted  at  Castle  Cragg. 

The  countess  took  her  to  a  bright,  cheerful  suite  of  apart 
ments  on  the  second  floor,  whose  French  windows  opened  upon 
a  balcony  overlooking  the  wild  and  picturesque  scenery  of  the 
Esk. 


CLAUDIA   AT   CAMERON   COUBT.  SI 9 

And  when  she  had  laid  off  her  bonnet  and  wrappings  her 
hostess  took  her  down  to  a  handsome  dining  room,  where  an  ele 
gant  little  dinner  for  two  was  served. 

Ah !  very  different  was  this  from  the  horrible  meals  at  Castle 
Cragg,  or  even  from  the  lonely  ones  at  Magruder's  Hotel. 

Berenice  possessed  the  rare  gift  of  fascination  in  a  higher 
degree  than  any  woman  Claudia  had  ever  chanced  to  meet. 
And  she  exerted  herself  to  please  her  guest  with  such  success 
that  Claudia  was  completely  charmed  and  won. 

After  dinner  they  adjourned  to  a  sumptuous  apartment, 
called  in  the  house  "  my  lady's  little  drawing  room."  Here 
everything  was  collected  that  could  help  to  make  a  winter 
evening  pass  comfortably  and  pleasantly. 

The  Turkey  carpet  that  covered  the  floor  was  a  perfect 
parterre  of  brilliant  flowers  wrought  in  their  natural  colors; 
and  its  texture  was  so  fine  and  thick  that  it  yielded  like  moss 
to  the  footstep.  Crimson  velvet  curtains,  lined  with  white  satin 
and  fringed  with  gold,  draped  the  windows  and  excluded  every 
breath  of  the  wintry  blast.  Many  costly  pictures,  rare  works 
of  art,  covered  the  walls.  A  grand  piano-forte,  a  fine  harp,  a 
guitar,  and  a  lute  were  at  hand.  Rich  inlaid  tables  were  cov 
ered  with  the  best  new  books,  magazines,  and  journals.  Indian 
cabinets  were  filled  with  antique  shells,  minerals,  ossifications, 
and  other  curiosities.  Marble  stands  supported  vases,  statuettes, 
and  other  articles  of  vertu.  Lastly,  two  soft,  deep,  easy-chairs 
were  drawn  up  before  the  glowing  fire;  while  over  the  mantel 
piece  a  large  cheval  glass  reflected  and  duplicated  all  this  wealth 
of  comfort. 

With  almost  motherly  tenderness  the  beautiful  countess 
placed  her  guest  in  one  of  these  luxurious  chairs  and  put  a 
comfortable  foot  cushion  under  her  feet.  Then  Berenice  took 
the  other  chair.  Between  them,  on  a  marble  stand,  stood  a 
vase  of  flowers  and  the  countess'  work-box.  But  she  did  not 
open  it.  She  engaged  her  guest  in  conversation,  and  such  was 
the  charm  of  her  manners  that  the  evening  passed  like  a 
pleasant  dream. 

And  when  Claudia  received  the  kiss  of  Berenice  and  retired 
for  the  night,  it  was  with  the  sweet  feeling  of  safety  added 
to  her  sense  of  freedom.  And  when  she  awoke  in  the  morning, 
it  was  to  greet  with  joy  her  new  life  of  sympathy,  security,  and 
repose. 

As  soon  as  she  rang  her  bell  she  was  attended  by  a  pretty 


320         SELF-RAISED;  OB,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

Scotch  girl,  who  informed  her  that  her  ladyship's  luggage  had 
arrived,  and  had  been  placed  in  the  hall  outside  her  apartments 
to  await  her  ladyship's  orders. 

Claudia,  when  she  was  dressed,  went  to  look  after  it  and 
found,  to  her  surprise,  not  only  her  large  trunk  from  Magru- 
der's,  but  also  her  numerous  boxes  from  Castle  Cragg. 

Upon  inquiry  she  discovered  that  the  boxes  had  been  for 
warded  from  the  castle  to  the  hotel,  and  sent  on  with  the  trunk. 

She  did  not  stop  to  inspect  any  part  of  her  luggage,  but  went 
downstairs  into  the  breakfast  parlor,  where  she  found  Lady 
Hurstmonceux  presiding  over  the  table,  and  waiting  for  her. 

Berenice  arose  and  met  her  guest  with  an  affectionate  em 
brace,  and  put  her  into  the  easiest  chair  nearest  the  fire;  for  it 
was  a  bitter  cold  morning,  and  the  snow  lay  thick  upon  the 
ground  and  upon  the  tops  of  the  fir  trees  that  stood  before  the 
windows,  like  footmen  with  powdered  heads. 

On  turning  up  her  plate  Claudia  found  a  letter. 

"  It  is  from  Jean  Murdock,  dear.  Read  it ;  it  refers  no  doubt 
to  the  boxes  she  has  forwarded,"  said  Lady  Hurstmonceux. 

Claudia  smiled,  bowed,  broke  the  seal,  and  read  as  follows : 

"  Castle  Cragg,  Thursday  Morning. 

"Me  Leddy:  I  hae  the  honor  to  forward  your  leddyship's 
boxes  fra  the  castle.  I  hope  your  leddyship  will  find  a'  richt. 
There  hae  been  unco  ill  doings  here  sin  your  leddyship  left. 
Me  laird  hae  gane  his  ways  up  to  Lunnun;  but  hae  left  the 
player  bodie,  Quid  forgie  him,  biding  her  lane  here.  And  she 
has  guided  us  a'  a  sair  gate  sin'  she  hae  held  the  reins.  Auld 
Cuthbert  wouldna  bide  here  longer  gin  it  wer'  na  for  the  luve 
o'  the  house;  na  mare  would  I.  I  must  tell  your  leddyship 
about  the  visit  of  the  poleece,  whilk  I  understand  were  sent 
by  your  leddyship's  ain  sel'.  They  cam'  the  same  day  your 
leddyship  left.  Me  laird  was  going  away;  and  me  laird's  car 
riage  stood  at  the  door;  and  just  as  he  was  stepping  into  the 
carriage  they  cam'  up  and  spake  till  him.  And  then  his  laird- 
ship  laughed,  and  invited  them  to  enter  the  house,  and  walk  into 
the  library.  And  he  sent  Auld  Cuthbert  to  fetch  me.  And 
when  I  went  into  the  library,  his  lairdship  said  till  me: 

" '  Murdock,  these  people  have  come  about  some  gorillas  that 
are  said  to  be  missing.  What  about  them  ? ' 

" '  If  your  lairdship  means  the  puir  negro  bodies,  I  dinna  ken; 
I  hae  nae  seen  ane  of  them  the  day,'  I  answered.  An  nooj, 


CLAUDIA   AT   CAMEEON   COURT.  321 

me  leddy,  ye  maun  e'en  just  forgie'  an  auld  cummer  like  me- 
sel'  gin  she  writes  you  a'  that  followed,  e'en  though  it  should 
cut  you  to  the  heart;  for  ye  ought  to  ken  weel  the  ways  o* 
your  bitter  ill-wishers.  Aweel,  then,  and  when  I  had  answered 
me  laird,  he  turned  to  the  poleecemen  and  said: 

" '  The  truth  is,  Mr.  Murray,  that  you  have  been  deceived  by 
a  vera  artful  party.  I  may  just  as  well  tell  you  now  what  in 
a  few  days  will  be  the  talk  of  every  taproom  in  the  United 
Kingdom.  When  I  was  in  America  I  was  regularly  taken  in  by 
a  beautiful  adventuress,  whom  I  found — worse  luck — in  the 
best  circles  there.  I  married  the  creature  and  brought  her 
to  this  castle,  which  she  has  dishonored.'  And  here,  me  leddy, 
he  gave  the  poleeceman  an  exaggerated  account  of  the  finding? 
of  Frisbie  in  your  leddyship's  room.  And  then  he  rang  the  bell, 
and  sent  for  the  player  bodie  and  her  friend,  who  cam'  in  and 
confeermed  a'  that  he  tauld  the  poleeceman.  And  then  me  laird 
spake  up  and  said  that  the  negroes  had  run  off  wi'  a  large  quan 
tity  of  jewelry  and  plate;  that  he  had  nae  doubt  but  your  leddy- 
ship  had  gi'e  them  commission  to  purloin  it;  that  your  leddy 
ship's  visit  and  compleent  to  the  poleece  was  naught  but  a  blind 
to  deceive  them;  and  finally  that  he  demanded  to  have  a  war 
rant  issued  for  the  arrest  of  the  negroes  on  the  charge  of  theft. 

"  Aweel,  me  leddy,  ye  ken  that  your  leddyship  and  your  puir 
serving  bodies  are  strangers  here,  and  me  laird  and  a'  his 
family  are  well  kenned  folk,  and,  mare  than  that,  they  are 
o'  the  auld  nobility — mare  the  shame  for  me  laird,  na  better 
to  do  honor  till  his  race.  And  sae  the  lang  and  short  o'  it  is, 
he  talked  over  the  poleecemen,  sae  that  instead  of  pursuing 
their  investigations  in  the  castle,  they  went  off  with  me  laird 
to  have  warrants  out  for  the  apprehension  of  the  puir  negro 
folk,  whilk  I  believe  to  be  as  innocent  of  theft  as  I  mysel'  or 
auld  Cuthbert.  And  noo,  me  leddy,  I  hae  telled  ye  a',  think 
ing  till  mesel'  that  ye  ought  to  ken  it.  And  sae  maun  e'en 
just  commit  your  ways  to  the  Lord,  and  put  your  trust  intil 
him.  Auld  Cuthbert  and  mesel'  pray  for  your  leddyship  ilka 
day,  that  ye  may  be  deleevered  fra  the  spoilers,  and  fra  a'  those 
wha  gang  about  to  wark  you  wae.  Me  laird  hae  gane  his  ways 
up  to  Lunnun,  as  I  tauld  your  leddyship.  And  the  player  quean 
and  her  cummer  hae  possession  o'  the  house,  and  guide  a'  things 
their  ain  gait,  wae's  me !  Gin  I  suld  hear  onything  anent  your 
leddyship's  puir  negro  folk,  I  will  mak'  haste  to  let  your  leddy- 
Bhip  ken.  Auld  Cuthbert  begs  permission  to  send  his  duty  and 


322     SELF-TUISED  ;  OK,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

his  prayers  for  your  leddyship's  happiness.     And  I  mysel'  has 
the  honor  to  be  your  honorable  leddyship's 

"  Obedient  humble  servant  to  command, 

"  Jean  Murdock." 

When  Claudia  had  finished  reading  this  letter  she  passed  it 
with  a  sad  smile  to  Lady  Hurstmonceux,  who,  as  soon  as  she 
had  in  her  turn  perused  it,  tossed  it  upon  the  table,  saying, 
scornfully : 

" '  Whom  the  gods  wish  to  destroy  they  first  make  mad ! ' 
Lord  Vincent  appears  to  me  to  have  lost  his  reason.  He  thinks 
that  he  is  weaving  a  net  of  circumstantial  evidence  around  you 
for  your  ruin,  when  he  is,  in  fact,  only  involving  himself  in  in 
tricacies  of  crime  which  must  inevitably  prove  his  destruction." 

"  I  cannot,  oh,  I  cannot,  see  it  in  the  same  light  that  you  do ! 
It  seems  to  me  that  he  has  succeeded  in  making  me  appear 
guilty,"  said  Claudia,  with  a  shudder. 

"  Ah,  let  us  not  talk  of  it,  since  talking  will  do  no  good ;  at 
least  not  now.  When  your  father  comes,  then  we  will  talk  and 
act,"  said  the  countess  soothingly,  as  she  set  a  cup  of  fragrant 
coffee  before  her  guest. 

Now  I  do  not  know  whether  you  care  to  be  informed  how 
Claudia  passed  her  time  during  the  five  weeks  of  her  sojourn  at 
Cameron  Court,  so  I  shall  make  the  description  of  her  visit  a 
short  one. 

In  the  first  place,  you  may  be  sure,  from  what  you  have  al 
ready  seen  of  Lady  Hurstmonceux,  that  she  would  not  allow 
her  guest  to  mope. 

As  soon  as  the  snow  ceased  to  fall  and  the  sky  cleared,  with 
a  sharp  northwest  wind  that  froze  the  river  hard,  the  countess 
took  her  guest  out  to  learn  the  exhilarating  art  of  skating, 
and  in  this  way  they  employed  an  hour  or  two  of  each  morning. 
The  remainder  of  the  day  would  be  passed  in  needlework, 
reading,  music,  and  conversation. 

When  the  weather  moderated  and  the  ice  was  unsafe  for  skat 
ing,  they  substituted  riding  and  driving  excursions,  and  visited 
all  the  remarkable  places  in  the  neighborhood. 

They  visited  Roslyn  Castle  and  went  down  into  those  fearful 
vaults,  three  tiers  under  ground,  and  listened  to  the  guide  who 
told  them  traditions  of  the  princely  state  kept  up  by  the  an 
cient  lords  of  Roslyn,  who  had  noblemen  of  high  degree  for 
their  carvers  and  cupbearers;  and  of  those  ladies  of  Roslyn, 


CLAUDIA   AT   CAMEEON   COURT.  323 

who  never  moved  from  home  without  a  train  of  two  hundred 
waiting  gentlewomen  and  two  hundred  mounted  knights. 

They  visited  Roslyn  Chapel  and  admired  the  unequaled 
beauty  of  its  architecture,  and  gazed  at  the  wondrous  chef 
d'oeuvre — the  "  apprentice's  pillar  " — and  heard  the  story  how 
a  poor  but  gifted  boy,  hoping  to  please,  had  designed  and  exe 
cuted  the  work  during  the  absence  of  his  master,  who,  on  re 
turning  and  seeing  the  beautiful  pillar,  fell  into  a  frenzy  of 
envious  rage  and  slew  his  apprentice. 

They  visited  the  ruins  of  Craigmillar  Castle  and  stood  in  the 
little  stone  den,  seven  feet  by  four,  which  is  known  as  "  Queen 
Mary's  bedroom."  They  saw  those  deep,  dark  dungeons  where 
in  the  olden  times  captives  pined  away  their  lives  forgotten  of 
all  above  ground ;  they  saw  the  "  execution  room,"  with  its  con 
demned  cell,  its  chains  and  staples,  its  instruments  of  torture, 
its  altar  and  its  block. 

It  was  iudeed  a 

— "  Dire  dungeon,  place  of  doom, 
Of  execution,  too,  and  tomb! " 

where,  in  those  savage  times,  great  criminals  and  innocent 
victims  were  alike  condemned  unheard,  and  secretly  shrived, 
beheaded,  and  buried. 

They  passed  011  to  a  still  more  terrible  dungeon  among  those 
dread  vaults — a  circular  stone  crypt  surrounded  by  tall,  deep, 
narrow  niches,  in  which  human  beings  had  been  built  up  alive. 

With  a  shudder  Claudia  turned  from  all  these  horrors  to  the 
countess : 

"  It  is  said  that  our  country  has  no  past,  no  history,  no  monu-j 
ments.  I  am  glad  of  it.  Better  her  past  should  be  a  blank  page 
than  be  written  over  with  such  bloody  hieroglyphics  as  these. 
When  I  consider  these  records  and  reflect  upon  the  deeds  of 
this  crime-stained  old  land,  I  look  r,pon  our  own  young  nation 
as  an  innocent  child.  Let  us  leave  this  place.  It  kills  me, 
Berenice." 

On  Sunday  morning  at  the  breakfast  table  Lady  Hurstmon- 
ceux  proposed,  as  the  day  was  fine,  that  they  should  drive  into 
Edinboro'  and  attend  divine  services  at  St.  Giles'  Cathedral, 
interesting  from  being  the  most  ancient  place  of  worship  in  the 
city;  a  richly  endowed  abbey  and  ecclesiastical  school  in  the 
Middle  Ages;  and  at  a  later  period,  after  the  Reformation, 


324         SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

the  church  from  which  John  Knox  delivered  his  fierce  denun* 
ciation  of  the  sins  and  sinners  of  his  day. 

All  this  Berenice  told  Claudia  at  the  breakfast  table,  seek 
ing  to  draw  her  thoughts  away  from  the  subject  of  her  own 
position. 

But  at  the  invitation  from  Lady  Hurstmonceux  to  attend  a 
Christian  place  of  worship  Claudia  looked  up  in  surprise  and 
exclaimed  impulsively: 

"  But  I  thought " 

And  there  she  stopped  and  blushed. 

Lady  Hurstmonceux  understood  her,  smiled,  and  answered: 

"You  thought  that  I  was  a  Jewess.  Well,  I  was  born  and 
brought  up  in  the  Jewish  faith.  But  it  is  now  many  years, 
Lady  Vincent,  since  I  embraced  the  Christian  religion." 

"  I  am  very  glad !  I  am  very,  very  glad !  Ah !  I  am  but  a 
poor,  unworthy  Christian  myself,  yet  I  do  rejoice  in  every  soul 
converted  to  Christ,"  said  Claudia  warmly,  clasping  the  hand  of 
her  hostess ;  and,  while  holding  it,  she  continued  to  say :  "  I  do 
love  to  live  in  an  atmosphere  of  Christianity,  and  I  hate  to  live 
out  of  it.  That  was  one  reason,  among  others,  why  I  was  so 
unutterably  wretched  at  Castle  Cragg.  They  were  such  irre 
deemable  atheists.  There  was  never  a  visit  to  church,  never  a 
prayer,  never  a  grace,  never  a  chapter  from  the  Bible,  never 
any  sort  of  acknowledgment  of  their  Creator,  never  the  slight 
est  regard  to  his  laws.  Lord  Vincent  and  Mrs.  Dugald  would 
sit  down  and  play  cards  through  a  whole  Sabbath  evening,  as 
upon  any  other.  Oh,  it  was  dreadful.  Looking  back  upon  my 
life  among  them,  I  wonder — yes,  wonder — how  I  ever  could  have 
lived  through  it !  Coming  from  that  place  to  this,  Lady  Hurst 
monceux,  is  like  coming  from  something  very  like  hell  to  some 
thing  very  like  heaven." 

"You  were  tortured  in  many  ways,  my  poor  Claudia.  You 
are  now  off  the  rack,  that  is  all.  And  now,  I  suppose,  we  are 
to  go  to  St.  Giles'  ? " 

"  If  you  please,  yes ;  I  should  like  to  do  so." 

Lady  Hurstmonceux  rang  the  bell  and  ordered  the  carriage. 
And  then  the  friends  arose  from  the  breakfast  table  and  re 
tired  to  prepare  for  church. 

They  enjoyed  a  beautiful  drive  of  seven  miles  through  a 
wildly  picturesque  country,  and  entered  the  town  and  reached 
the  church  in  time  for  the  opening  of  the  services. 

The  preacher  of  the  day  was  a  very  worthy  successor  of  John 


CLAUDIA   AT   CAMEKON   COURT.  325 

Kno.s,  having  all  the  faith  and  hope,  and  a  good  deal  more  of 
charity  than  that  grand  old  prophet  of  wrath  had  ever  dis 
played. 

This  was  the  first  divine  worship  that  Claudia  had  engaged 
in  for  many  months.  It  revived,  comforted,  and  strengthened 
her. 

She  left  the  church  in  a  better  mood  of  mind  than  she  had 
perhaps  ever  experienced  in  the  whole  course  of  her  life.  Her 
inmost  thought  was  this: 

"  God  enriched  my  life  with  the  most  bountiful  blessings. 
But  by  sins  turned  them  all  into  curses  and  brought  my  sor 
rows  upon  me.  I  will  repent  of  my  sins,  I  will  accept  my  sor 
rows.  God  from  his  own  mercy  and  not  from  my  deserts  has 
brought  me  thus  far  alive  through  my  troubles;  he  has  raised 
up  a  friend  to  succor  me.  I  will  bow  down  in  penitence,  in 
humility,  in  gratitude  before  him,  and  I  will  try  to  serve  him 
truly  in  the  future,  and  I  will  trust  all  that  future  to  him." 

They  reached  home  to  a  late  dinner,  and  spent  the  evening 
in  such  serious  reading  and  conversation  and  sacred  music  as 
befitted  the  day.  Not  one  dull  hour  had  Claudia  experienced 
during  her  residence  at  Cameron  Court. 

On  Monday,  which  was  another  fine  winter  day,  the  countess 
said  to  her  guest: 

u  This  is  the  day  of  each  week  that  I  always  devote  to  my 
poor.  Would  you  like  to  drive  around  with  me  in  the  pony 
chaise  and  make  acquaintance  with  the  peasantry  of  Scotland? 
You  will  find  them  a  very  intelligent,  well-educated  class." 

"  Thank  you,  I  should  enjoy  the  drive  quite  as  much  as  any 
that  we  have  yet  taken,"  said  Claudia. 

And  accordingly  after  breakfast  the  ladies  set  out  upon  their 
rounds.  Berenice  did  not  go  empty-handed.  Hampers  of  food 
and  bundles  of  clothing  filled  up  every  available  space  in  the 
carriage.  It  was  a  very  pleasant  drive.  To  every  cottage  that 
the  countess  entered  she  brought  relief,  comfort,  and  cheer 
fulness. 

The  children  greeted  her  with  glad  smiles;  the  middle-aged 
with  warm  thanks;  and  the  old  with  fervent  blessings.  Not 
from  one  humble  homestead  did  she  turn  without  leaving  some 
token  of  her  passage;  with  one  family  she  would  leave  the 
needed  supply  of  food;  with  another  the  necessary  winter 
clothing;  with  another,  wine,  medicine,  or  books.  "With  others, 
yery  poor,  she  would  leave  a  portion  of  all  these  requisites. 


<526        SELF-RAISED;  OB,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

Finally,  when  the  sun  was  sinking  to  his  setting  behind  the 
Pentland  Hills,  she  returned  home  with  her  guest. 

"  I  must  thank  you  for  a  very  pleasant  day,  Lady  Hurstmon- 
ceux.  One  of  the  pleasantest  I  have  ever  passed  in  my  life. 
"For  I  have  witnessed  and  I  have  felt  more  real  pleasure  to-day 
than  I  ever  remember  to  have  experienced  before.  You  have 
conferred  much  happiness  to-day.  If  you  dispense  as  much  on 
every  Monday,  as  I  suppose  you  do,  the  aggregate  must  be  very 
great,"  said  Claudia,  with  enthusiasm,  as  they  sat  together  at 
tea  that  evening  in  "  my  lady's  little  drawing  room." 

For  some  minutes  Berenice  did  not  reply,  and  when  she  did, 
she  spoke  very  seriously. 

"  If  there  is  one  thing  more  than  another  for  which  I  thank 
God,  it  is  for  making  me  one  of  his  stewards.  Do  you  suppose, 
Claudia,  that  I  hold  all  the  wealth  that  he  has  entrusted  to  me, 
as  my  own,  to  be  used  for  my  own  exclusive  benefit?  Oh,  no! 
I  feel  that  I  am  but  his  almoner,  and  I  am  often  ashamed  of 
taking  as  I  do,  the  lion's  share  of  the  good  things,"  she  added, 
glancing  around  upon  the  luxuries  that  encompassed  her. 

The  next  day  Lady  Hurstmonceux  proposed  another  ex 
cursion. 

"  I  will  not  take  you  to  visit  any  romantic  old  ruin  this  morn 
ing;  but  to  vary  the  programme  I  will  take  you  to  see  an  in 
teresting  living  reality." 

And  accordingly  the  carriage  was  ordered  and  they  drove 
out  to  New  Haven,  a  fishing  village  within  three  miles  of 
Edinboro',  and  yet  as  isolated  and  as  primitive  in  its  manners 
and  customs  as  the  most  remote  hamlet  in  the  country. 

There  Claudia  was  amused  and  interested  in  watching  the 
coming  in  of  the  fishing  boats,  and  observing  the  picturesque 
attire  of  the  fish-wives,  and  listening  to  the  deafening  clatter 
of  their  tongues  as  they  chaffered  with  the  fishermen,  while 
lading  their  baskets. 

This  was  another  pleasant  day  for  Claudia. 

But  it  would  stretch  this  chapter  to  too  great  a  length  to 
describe  each  day  of  her  sojourn  at  Cameron  Court. 

Let  it  suffice  to  say  in  general  terms  that  the  countess  kept 
her  guest  usefully  employed  or  agreeably  entertained  during 
the  whole  of  her  visit.  There  was  neither  a  tedious  nor  a 
fatiguing  hour  in  the  five  weeks  of  her  sojourn. 

Every  Sunday  they  attended  divine  worship  at  "  St.  Giles' 
Cathedral,"  commonly  called  "John  Knox's  church."  Every 


SUSPENSE.  327 

Monday  they  went  their  rounds  among  the  poor.  Other  days 
in  the  week  they  visited  interesting  and  remarkable  places 
in  and  around  Edinboro'.  And  thus  cheerfully  passed  the  days. 


CHAPTEK  XXXIX. 

SUSPENSE. 

Wait,  for  the  day  is  breaking, 

Tho'  the  dull  night  be  long, 
Wait,  Heav'n  is  not  forsaking 

Thy  heart— be  strong!  be  strong! 

— Anon. 

As  the  time  approached  when  Claudia  might  reasonably  ex 
pect  a  reply  to  the  letter  she  had  written  to  her  father,  she 
naturally  became  very  anxious. 

Would  he  answer  that  last  urgent  appeal  by  letter  or  in  per 
son?  that  was  the  question  she  was  forever  asking  of  herself. 

And  the  response  of  her  heart  was  always  the  same ;  he  would 
lose  no  time  in  writing,  he  would  hasten  at  once  to  her  relief. 

Ah!  but  if  he  should  be  ill,  or — even  dead?  What  then? 
Claudia's  anxiety  grew  daily  more  acute. 

She  had  heard  nothing  of  the  fate  of  her  negroes.  She 
learned  by  a  second  letter  from  Jean  Murdock  that  Mrs.  Dugald 
still  remained  at  Castle  Cragg,  "  lording  it  o'er  a',"  as  the  house 
keeper  expressed  it.  -  And  slie  saw  by  the  "  Times  "  that  Mal 
colm,  Viscount  Vincent,  had  filed  a  petition  for  divorce  from 
his  viscountess.  That  was  all. 

The  fourth  week  had  nearly  gone  by  when  one  morning, 
on  coming  to  the  breakfast  table,  Claudia  found  lying  beside 
her  plate  a  foreign  letter. 

At  the  very  first  glance  at  its  superscription  she  recognized 
her  father's  firm  handwriting,  and  with  an  irrepressible  cry  of 
joy  she  snatched  it  up. 

It  was  the  short  letter  Judge  Merlin  had  hastily  penned  on 
the  eve  of  his  journey  to  Washington.  It  merely  stated  that  he 
had  just  that  instant  taken  her  letters  from  the  post  office; 
and  that,  in  order  to  save  the  immediately  outgoing  mail,  he 
answered  them  without  leaving  the  office,  to  announce  to  her 
that  he  should  sail  for  England  on  the  "  Oceana,"  that  would 
leave  Boston  on  the  following  Wednesday.  And  then,  with 
strong  expressions  of  indignation  against  Lord  Vincent,  sor* 


328          SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROSI  THE  DEPTHS. 

row  f*>/  fflaudia's  troubles,  and  affection  for  herself,  the  lettel 
closed. 

"  Oh,  Berenice,  Berenice !  I  am  so  happy ;  so  very  happy ! " 
exclaimed  Claudia  wildly.  "My  father  has  written  to  me!  he 
is  well!  he  is  coming!  he  is  coming!  he  will  be  here  in  a  few 
days !  in  a  very  few  days !  for  this  letter  was  written  in  the  post 
office,  to  save  the  vwyy  last  mail  that  came  by  the  steamer  im 
mediately  preceding  tne  '  Oceana ' !  Oh,  Berenice,  I  could 
cry  with  joy !  " 

"I  congratulate  you  with  all  my  heart,  dear  Claudia.  Yes, 
I  should  think  your  father  would  now  be  here  in  two  or  three 
days,  at  farthest,"  said  Lady  Hurstmonceux. 

"  And  oh,  how  shall  I  get  oveir  the  interval  ?  Ah,  Berenice, 
indulge  me !  Let  us  go  down  to  Liverpool  to  meet  my  father !  " 

"My  dear,  I  would  do  so  in  a  moment,  only  I  think  it  the 
worst  plan  you  could  pursue.  In  your  circumstances,  dearest 
Claudia,  we  must  not  go  journeying  through  the  country.  We 
must  live  very  quietly.  And  besides,  though  the  '  Oceana '  may 
reasonably  be  expected  in  two  or  three  days,  there  is  no  reason 
in  the  world  why  she  might  not  arrive  to-day,  or  to-night.  In 
which  case,  by  going  down  to  Liverpool,  we  shall  be  most  likely 
to  miss  your  father,  who  would  be  steaming  up  here." 

"  Certainly,  certainly!  I  see  the  reasonableness  of  your  views; 
but  how,  then,  shall  I  get  over  the  intervening  time  ? " 

"  I  might  propose  for  you  excursions  to  many  interesting 
places  in  the  vicinity  of  Edinboro'  which  you  have  not  seen; 
but  that  we  must  not  go  far  from  home,  while  expecting  Judge 
Merlin.  We  must  not  happen  to  be  absent  when  your  father 
arrives." 

"  Oh,  no !  we  must  not  risk  such  a  thing,  I  know.  Well,  I 
will  wait  as  patiently  as  I  can." 

"And  I  will  tell  you  what  you  may  do,  meantime.  To-day 
you  shall  superintend  in  person -the  preparation  of  a  suite  of 
rooms  for  your  father.  You  shall  let  my  housekeeper  into  the 
secret  of  all  his  little  tastes,  and  they  shall  be  considered  in 
the  arrangements.  That  will  occupy  one  day.  To-morrow,  you 
know,  is  Sunday,  and  we  must  go  to  church.  That  will  occupy 
the  second.  The  next  day,  Monday,  we  will  make  our  weekly 
round  among  the  poor.  That  will  occupy  the  third  day,  to  the 
exclusion  of  everything  else.  For  if  there  is  one  employment 
more  than  another  that  will  make  us  forget  our  personal  anx 
ieties,  it  is  ministering  to  the  wants  of  others.  And,  in  all 


SUSPENSE.  329 

human  probability,  before  Monday  evening  Judge  Merlin  will 
be  here." 

"  Yes,  yes !  Oh,  my  dear  father !  I  can  scarcely  realize  that 
I  shall  see  him  so  soon,"  said  Claudia,  with  emotion. 

The  countess'  programme  was  carried  out.  Claudia  spent 
that  day  in  superintending  the  arrangements  of  a  handsome 
suite  of  rooms  for  her  father. 

On  Sunday  they  went  to  church.  But  the  text  was  an  unfor 
tunate  one  for  Claudia's  spirits.  It  was  taken  from  James  iv. 
13 :  "  Ye  know  not  what  shall  be  on  the  morrow."  And  the 
subject  of  the  discourse  was  on  the  vanity  of  human  expecta 
tions  and  the  uncertainty  of  human  destiny.  Claudia  returned 
home  greatly  depressed;  but  that  depression  soon  yielded  to 
the  cheerfulness  of  Lady  Hurstmonceux's  manner. 

On  Monday  they  made  their  rounds  among  the  poor;  and 
Claudia  forgot  her  anxieties  and  felt  happy  in  the  happiness 
she  saw  dispensed  around  her. 

Yes,  the  programme  of  the  countess  was  carried  out,  but  her 
previsions  were  not  realized.  Judge  Merlin  did  not  come  that 
evening,  nor  on  the  next  morning,  nor  on  the  next  evening. 

On  Wednesday  morning  Claudia,  as  usual,  seized  the 
"  Times "  as  soon  as  it  was  brought  in,  and  turned  eagerly  to 
the  telegraphic  column.  But  there  was  no  arrival  from 
America.  Glancing  farther  down  the  column  she*  suddenly 
grew  pale  and  exclaimed: 

"Oh,  Berenice!" 

"  What  is  it,  dear  ?  "  inquired  the  countess. 

Claudia  read  aloud  the  paragraph  that  had  alarmed  her: 

"  The  '  Oceana  '  is  now  several  days  overdue.  Serious  appre 
hensions  are  entertained  for  her  safety." 

"  Do  not  be  alarmed,  my  dear.  At  this  season  of  the  year 
the  steamers  are  frequently  delayed  beyond  their  usual  time 
of  arrival,"  said  the  countess,  with  a  cheerfulness  that  she  was 
very  far  from  really  feeling. 

"  But  if  there  should  have  been  an  accident ! " 

"  My  clear,  that  line  of  steamers  has  never  had  an  accident. 
And  their  good  fortune  is  not  the  eifect  of  luck,  but  of  the 
great  care  bestowed  by  the  company  and  its  officers  upon  the 
safety  of  those  who  trust  to  them  their  lives  and  goods.  Re 
assure  yourself,  Claudia." 

But  that  was  easier  said  than  done.  Three  or  four  more  of 
anxious  days  and  nights  passed,  during  Trhich  Claudia  watched 


330         SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

the  papers  for  the  arrival  of  the  ocean  steamers;  but  all  in 
vain,  until  the  Saturday  morning  of  that  week,  when,  as  usual, 
she  opened  the  "  Times  "  and  turned  to  the  telegraphic  column. 

She  could  scarcely  repress  the  cry  of  anguish  that  arose  to 
her  lips  on  reading  the  following: 

"  Arrival  of  the  ocean  steamers.  The  screw  propeller  '  Su 
perior/  with  New  York  mails  of  the  15th,  has  reached  Queens- 
town.  On  the  Banks  of  Newfoundland  she  passed  the  wreck 
of  a  large  steamer,  supposed  to  be  the  '  Oceana.' " 

"Oh,  Berenice!  Oh,  Berenice!  Can  this  be  true?  Oh! 
Speak  a  word  of  hope  or  comfort  to  me !  "  cried  Claudia,  wring 
ing  her  hands  in  the  extremity  of  mental  agony. 

"  My  dear,  let  us  still  hope  for  the  best.  There  is  no  certainty 
that  it  is  the  wreck  of  the  '  Oceana.'  There  is  no  certainty  that 
the  '  Oceana  '  is  wrecked  at  all.  She  is  delayed ;  that  is  all  which 
is  known.  And  that  is  often  the  case  with  the  ocean  steamers 
at  this  season  of  the  year,  as  I  told  you  before,"  said  the  count 
ess,  trying  to  inspire  Claudia  with  a  hope  that  she  herself 
scarcely  dared  to  indulge. 

But  Claudia's  face  was  drawn  with  anguish. 

"  Oh,  the  suspense,  the  terrible  agony  of  suspense !  It  is 
worse  than  death !  "  she  cried. 

The  countess  essayed  to  comfort  her,  but  in  vain. 

All  that  day,  and  for  many  succeeding  ones,  Claudia  was  like 
a  victim  stretched  upon  the  rack.  The  torture  of  uncertainty 
was  harder  to  endure  than  any  certainty;  it  was,  as  she  said, 
"worse  than  death,"  worse  than  despair!  Some  two  weeks 
passed  away,  during  which  her  very  breath  of  life  seemed  al 
most  suspended  in  the  agony  of  hope  that  could  not  die. 

At  length  one  morning,  on  descending  to  the  breakfast  parlor, 
she  found  Lady  Hurstmonceux  reading  the  "  Times." 

"  Any  news  ? "  inquired  Claudia,  in  a  faint  voice. 

The  countess  looked  up.  Claudia  read  the  expression  of  her 
face,  which  seemed  to  say,  prepare  for  good  news. 

"  Oh,  yes,  there  is !  there  is ! "  exclaimed  Claudia,  suddenly 
snatching  the  paper,  and  turning  to  the  telegraphic  column, 
and  then,  with  a  cry  of  joy,  sinking  into  her  seat. 

"  Let  me  read  it  to  you,  my  dear,  you  are  incapable  of  doing 
so,"  said  Berenice,  gently  taking  the  paper  from  her  hand  and 
reading  aloud  the  following  paragraph : 

"  News  of  the  '  Oceana.' — The  Oriental  and  Peninsular  Steam 


SUSPENSE.  331 

Packet  Company's  ship  'Albatross'  has  arrived  at  Liverpool, 
bringing  all  the  passengers  and  crew  of  the  '  Oceana,'  wrecked 
on  the  banks  of  Newfoundland.  They  were  picked  up  by  the 
'  Santiago,'  bound  for  Havana,  and  taken  to  that  port,  whence 
they  sailed  by  the  '  Cadiz '  for  the  port  of  Cadiz,  whence  lastly 
they  were  brought  by  the  '  Albatross '  to  Liverpool.  Among 
the  passengers  saved  were  Chief  Justice  Merlin  of  the  United 
States  Supreme  Court,  Ishmael  Worth,  Esquire,  a  distinguished 
member  of  the  Washington  bar,  and  Professor  Erasmus  Kerr, 
of  the  Glasgow  University.  The  shipwrecked  passengers  have 
all  arrived  in  good  health  and  spirits,  and  have  already  dis 
persed  to  their  various  destinations." 

"  This  is  too  much  joy !  Oh,  Berenice,  it  is  too  much  joy !  " 
cried  Claudia,  bursting  into  tears  and  throwing  herself  into 
the  arms  of  Lady  Hurstmonceux,  and  weeping  freely  on  the 
sympathetic  bosom  of  that  faithful  friend. 

"  Claudia,  dear,"  whispered  that  gentle  lady,  "  go  to  your 
room  and  shut  yourself  in,  and  kneel  and  return  thanks  to  God 
for  this  his  great  mercy.  And  so  shall  your  spirits  be  calmed 
and  strengthened." 

Claudia  ceased  weeping,  kissed  her  kind  monitress,  and  went 
and  complied  with  her  counsel.  And  very  fervent  was  the 
thanksgiving  that  went  up  to  Heaven  from  her  relieved  and 
grateful  heart.  She  had  finished  her  prayers  and  had  arisen, 
from  her  knees  and  was  sitting  by  her  writing-table  indulging 
in  a  reverie  of  anticipation,  when  a  bustle  below  stairs  attracted 
her  attention. 

She  listened. 

Yes,  it  was  the  noise  of  an  arrival ! 

With  a  joyous  presentiment  of  what  had  come  to  the  house, 
Claudia  rushed  out  of  the  room  and  down  the  stairs  to  the  lower 
entrance  hall,  and  the  next  moment  found  herself  clasped  to 
the  bosom  of  her  father. 

For  a  few  moments  neither  spoke.  The  embrace  was  a  fer 
vent,  earnest,  but  silent  one. 

The  judge  was  the  first  to  break  the  spell. 

"  Oh,  my  child !  my  child !  Thank  God  that  I  find  you  alive 
and  well !  "  he  exclaimed,  in  a  broken  voice. 

"  Oh,  my  father,  my  dear,  dear  father ! "  began  Claudia ;  but 
she  broke  down,  burst  into  tears,  and  wept  upon  his  bosom. 

He  held  her  there,  soothing  her  with  loving  words  and  ten- 


332  SELF-RAISED  J   OR,    FROM   THE   DEPTHS, 

der  caresses,  as  he  had  been  accustomed  to  do  when  she  vras  but 
a  child  coming  to  him  with  her  childish  troubles.  When 
Claudia  had  exhausted  her  passion  of  tears,  she  looked  up  and 
said: 

"But,  papa,  you  have  not  been  in  the  drawing  room  yet? 
You  have  not  seen  Lady  Hurstmonceux  ? " 

"  No,  my  dear,  I  have  but  just  arrived.  Claudia,  immedi 
ately  upon  my  landing  I  took  the  first  train  north,  and  reached 
Edinboro*  this  morning.  I  sent  my  party  on  to  Magruder's 
Hotel  and  took  a  fly  and  drove  immediately  out  here.  I  have 
but  just  been  admitted  to  the  house  and  sent  my  card  in  to  the 
hostess.  And,  ah,  I  see  that  my  messenger  has  returned." 

A  servant  in  livery  came  up,  bowed,  and  said: 

"  My  lady  directs  me  to  say  to  you,  sir,  that  she  will  see  you 
immediately  in  the  drawing  room,  unless  you  would  prefer  to 
go  first  to  the  apartments  which  are  prepared  for  you,  sir." 

The  judge  hesitated,  and  then  turned  to  his  daughter  and 
whispered  the  inquiry: 

"How  do  JL  look,  Claudia?    Presentable?" 

Lady  Vincent  ran  her  eyes  over  the  traveler  and  answered: 

"  Not  at  all  presentable,  papa.  You  look  just  as  one  might 
expect  you  to  do — black  with  smoke  and  dust  and  cinders,  as  if 
you  had  traveled  in  the  train  all  night." 

"  Which  of  course  I  did." 

"  And  I  think  you  would  be  all  the  better  for  a  visit  to  your 
rooms,  papa.  Come,  I  will  show  you  the  way,  for  I  am  as  much 
at  home  here  as  ever  I  was  at  dear  old  Tanglewood.  James," 
she  said,  turning  to  the  footman  who  had  brought  the  message, 
"  you  need  not  wait.  I  will  show  my  papa  his  rooms ;  but  you 
may  order  breakfast  for  him,  for  I  dare  say  he  has  had  none. 
Come,  papa ! " 

And  so  saying  Claudia  marshaled  her  father  upstairs  to  the 
handsome  suite  of  apartments  that  had  been  made  ready  for 
him.  When  he  had  renovated  his  toilet,  he  declared  himself 
ready  to  go  below  and  be  presented  to  his  hostess.  Claudia 
conducted  him  downstairs  and  into  "my  lady's  little  drawing 
room," 


FATHER   AND    DAUGHTER.  333 


CHAPTER  XL. 

FATHER  AND  DAUGHTER. 

How  deep,  how  thorough  felt  the  glow 

Of  rapture,  kindling  out  of  woe; 

How  exquisite  one  single  drop 

Of  bliss,  that  sparkling  to  the  top 

Of  misery's  cup,  is  keenly  quaffed 

Though  death  must  follow  soon  the  draught. 

— Moore. 

The  countess  was  sitting  on  one  of  the  armchairs  near  the  fire 
when  Claudia  led  the  judge  up  before  her,  saying  only : 

"  Lady  Hurstmonceux,  my  father." 

The  countess  arose  and  held  out  her  hand  with  a  smile  of 
welcome,  saying: 

"  It  gives  me  much  joy  to  see  you  safe,  after  all  your  dangers, 
Judge  Merlin.  Pray  sit  near  the  fire." 

The  judge  retained  her  hand  in  his  own  for  a  moment,  while 
he  bowed  over  it  and  answered: 

"I  thank  you  for  your  kind  expressions,  dear  Lady  Hurst 
monceux.  But,  oh!  what  terms  shall  I  find  strong  enough  to 
thank  you  for  the  noble  support  you  have  given  my  daughter 
in  her  great  need  ?  " 

"  Believe  me,  I  was  very  happy  to  be  serviceable  to  Lady 
Vincent,"  replied  the  countess  gently.  Then,  turning  to  Clau 
dia,  she  said: 

"Your  father  has  probably  not  had  breakfast." 

"  No ;  but  I  assumed  the  privilege  of  ordering  it  for  him," 
replied  the  latter. 

"  The  '  privilege '  was  yours  without  assumption,  my  dear. 
You  did  exactly  right,"  said  the  countess. 

"  I  see  that  my  daughter  is  quite  at  home  with  you,  madam," 
observed  the  judge. 

"  Oh,  I  adopted  her.  I  told  her  that  I  should  be  her  mother 
until  the  arrival  of  her  father,"  replied  Lady  Hurstmonceux, 
smiling. 

At  this  moment  the  footman  put  his  head  in  at  the  door  to 
say  that  the  judge's  breakfast  was  served.  Lady  Hurstmonceux 
led  the  way  to  the  breakfast  parlor,  and  then  saying: 

"You  will  make  your  father  comfortable  here,  Claudia,  I 
hope,"  she  bowed  and  left  them  alone  together. 


534        SELF-RAISED;  OB,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

Claudia  sat  down  to  the  table  and  began  to  pour  out  the 
coffee.  James,  the  footman,  was  in  attendance. 

"  Dismiss  the  servant,  my  dear,"  said  the  judge,  as  he  took 
his  seat  as  near  to  his  daughter  as  the  conveniences  of  the  table 
would  allow. 

"You  may  retire,  James.     I  will  ring  if  you  are  wanted." 

The  man  bowed  and  went  out.  The  father  and  daughter 
looked  up;  their  eyes  met  and  filled  with  tears. 

"  Oh,  my  child,  how  much  we  have  to  say  to  each  other  1 " 
sighed  the  judge. 

"  Yes,  but,  dear  papa,  drink  your  coffee  first.  You  really  look 
as  though  you  needed  it  very  much,"  replied  Claudia  affection 
ately. 

The  judge  complied  with  her  advice;  though,  if  the  truth 
must  be  told,  he  ate  and  drank  indiscreetly  fast  in  order  to  get 
through  soon  and  be  at  liberty  to  talk  to  his  daughter.  When, 
he  arose  from  the  table  Claudia  rang  the  bell  for  the  service 
to  be  removed,  and  then  led  the  way  again  to  my  lady's  little 
drawing  room. 

It  was  deserted.  Lady  Hurstmonceux  had  evidently  left 
it  that  the  father  and  daughter  might  converse  with  each  other 
unembarrassed  by  the  presence  of  a  third  person. 

"  My  dear,"  said  the  judge,  as  he  seated  himself  on  the  sofa 
beside  his  daughter,  wound  his  arm  around  her  shoulders,  and 
looked  wistfully  into  her  face,  "  do  you  know  that  I  am  sur 
prised  to  see  you  looking  so  well?  You  must  possess  a  great 
deal  of  fortitude,  Claudia,  to  have  passed  through  so  much 
trouble  as  you  have  and  show  so  few  signs  of  suffering  as  you 
do." 

"Ah,  papa!  if  you  had  arrived  a  few  days  ago  and  seen  me 
then,  you  would  have  had  good  cause  to  say  I  looked  well. 
But,  for  the  last  week,  the  intense  anxiety  I  have  felt  on  your 
account  has  worn  me  considerably." 

"  My  poor  girl !  Yes,  I  know  how  that  must  have  been.  The 
news  of  the  shipwreck  arrived  long  before  we  reached  England, 
and  everyone  must  have  given  us  up  for  lost." 

"I  did  not.  Oh,  no!  I  could  not!  I  still  hoped;  but,  oh, 
with  what  an  agony  of  hope !  " 

"  Such  hope,  my  child,  is  worse  than  despair." 

"  Oh,  no !  I  thought  so  then.  I  do  not  think  so  now ;  now 
that  I  have  you  beside  me." 

"  Now  that  it  is  ended.    But,  oh,  my  dear  child,  how  hard  it 


FATHER    AJSTD    DAUGHTER.  335 

was  for  you  to  have  anxiety  for  my  fate  added  to  all  your  othei 
troubles ! " 

"Papa,  anxiety  for  your  fate  was  my  only  trouble,"  said 
Claudia  gravely. 

"How!  what!  your  only  trouble,  Claudia?  I  do  not  under 
stand  you  in  the  least." 

"  All  my  other  troubles  had  passed  away.  And  now  that 
anxiety  is  at  an  end,  that  trouble  is  also  passed  away  and  I  have 
none." 

"None,  Claudia?  How  you  perplex  me,  my  dscr." 
"None,  papa!  I  left  them  all  behind  at  Castle  Cragg." 
"  I  do  not — cannot  comprehend  you,  my  dear." 
"  No,  papa,  you  cannot  comprehend  me ;  no  one  could  possibly 
comprehend  me  who  had  not  been  placed  in  something  like  my 
own  position.  But — can  you  not  imagine  that  when  a  victim 
has  been  stretched  upon  the  rack  and  tortured  by  executioners, 
it  is  comfort  enough  simply  to  be  taken  off  it  ?  Or  when  a  sinner 
has  been  in  purgatory  tormented  by  fiends,  it  is  heaven  enough 
only  to  be  out  of  it  ?  Oh,  papa,  that  is  not  exaggeration !  That 
is  something  like  what  I  suffered  at  Castle  Cragg;  something 
like  what  I  enjoy  in  being  away  from  it.  Think  of  it,  papa," 
said  Claudia,  gulping  down  the  hysterical  sob  that  arose  to  her 
throat;  "think  of  it!  me,  an  honorable  woman,  the  daughter  of 
Christian  parents,  to  find  myself  living  in  the  house,  sitting  at 
the  table  in  daily  communication  with  creatures  that  no  honest 
man  or  pure  woman  would  ever  willingly  approach!  Think  of 
me  being  not  only  in  the  company,  but  in  the  power,  and  at  the 
mercy  of  such  wretches !  " 

"  '  Think,'  Claudia !  I  have  thought  until  my  brain  has  nearly 
burst.  Oh,  I  shall — no  matter  what  I  shall  do!  I  will 
threaten  no  longer,  but,  by  all  my  hopes  of  salvation,  I  will 
act.  The  remorseless  monster!  the  infamous  villain!  I  do 
not  know  how  you  lived  through  it  all,  Claudia ! " 

"  I  do  not  know  myself,  papa.  Oh,  sir,  I  never  fully  real 
ized  my  life  at  Castle  Cragg  until  I  got  away  from  it  and  could 
look  back  on  it  from  a  distance.  For  the  trouble  then  grew 
around  me  gradually ;  slowly  astonishing  me,  if  you  can  conceive 
of  such  a  thing;  benumbing  my  heart;  stupefying  my  brain; 
deadening  my  sensibilities;  else  I  could  not  have  endured  it  so 
quietly.  Ah,  it  would  have  ended  in  death,  though — death  of 
the  body,  perhaps  death  of  the  soul!  But  still  I  knew  enough, 
felt  enough,  to  experience  and  appreciate  the  infinite  relief 


836        SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

of  being  delivered  from  it.  Oh,  papa,  looking  back  upon  thai 
home  of  horror,  that  den  of  infamy,  I  understand  in  what  hell 
consists — not  in  consuming  fire,  but  in  the  company  of  devils! 
Oh,  sir,  if  you  could  once  place  yourself  in  my  position  and 
feel  what  it  was  for  me  to  leave  that  polluted  atmosphere  of  seu- 
tuality,  treachery,  and  hatred,  and  to  come  into  this  pure  air 
of  refinement,  truth,  and  love,  you  would  understand  how  it 
is  that  I  can  feel  no  trouble  now!  " 

"I  do ;  but  still  I  wonder  to  see  you  so  well." 

"  Oh,  sir,  you  know,  severe  as  my  tortures  were,  they  were 
only  superficial,  only  skin-deep;  they  did  not  reach  the  springs 
of  my  spirits.  That  is  the  reason  why,  in  being  relieved,  I  am 
BO  perfectly  at  ease." 

"  Then  you  never  loved  that  scoundrel,  Claudia  ?  " 

"  No,  father,  I  never  loved  him.  Therefore,  the  memory  of  hia 
villainy  does  not  haunt  me,  as  otherwise  it  might.  Not  loving 
him,  I  ought  never  to  have  married  him.  If  I  had  not,  I  should 
have  escaped  all  the  suffering." 

"  Ah,  Claudia,  would  to  Heaven  you  never  had  married  him," 
sighed  the  judge,  without  intending  to  cast  the  least  reproach 
on  his  daughter. 

She  felt  the  reproach,  however,  and  exclaimed,  with  passion 
ate  earnestness: 

"  Oh,  father,  do  not  blame  me — do  not!  I  could  not  help  it! 
Oh,  often  I  have  examined  my  conscience  on  that  score  and 
asked  myself  if  I  could!  And  the  answer  has  always  come — 
no,  with  my  nature,  my  passions,  my  pride,  my  ambition,  I 
could  not  help  doing  as  I  have  done ! " 

"  Could  not  help  marrying  a  man  you  could  not  love,  Clau 
dia?" 

"No,  papa,  no!  There  were  passions  in  my  nature  stronger 
than  love.  These  spurred  me  on  to  my  fate.  I  was  born  with 
a  great  deal  of  pride,  inherited  from — no  one  knows  how  many 
ancestors.  This  should  have  been  curbed,  trained,  directed  into 
worthy  channels.  But  it  was  not.  I  was  left  to  develop  natu 
rally,  with  the  aid  only  of  intellectual  education.  I  did  develop, 
from  a  proud,  frank,  high-spirited  girl  into  a  vain,  scheming, 
ambitious  woman.  I  married  for  a  title.  And  this  is  the  end. 
How  true  is  it  that  'pride  goeth  before  a  fall  and  a  haughty 
temper  before  destruction ! ' ' 

"  Oh,  Claudia,  Claudia,  every  word  you  speak  wounds  me 
like  a  sword-thrust!  It  was  my  '  theory  '  that  did  it  ali.  I  said 


FATHER   AND   DAUGHTER.  337 

I  would  let  my  trees  and  my  daughter  grow  up  as  nature  in 
tended  them  to  do.  And  what  is  the  result?  Tanglewood  has 
grown  into  an  inextricable  wilderness  that  nothing  but  a  fire 
could  clear,  and  my  daughter's  life  has  run  to  waste ! "  groaned 
the  judge,  covering  his  face  with  his  hands. 

"  Papa,  dear,  dearest  papa,  do  not  grieve  so !  I  did  not  mean 
to  give  you  pain.  I  did  not  mean  to  breathe  the  slightest  re 
flection  upon  so  kind  a  father  as  you  have  always  been  to  me. 
I  meant  only  to  explain  myself  a  little.  But  I  wish  I  had  not 
spoken  so.  Forget  what  I  have  said,  papa,"  said  Claudia,  ten 
derly  caressing  her  father. 

"  Let  it  all  pass,  my  dear  child,"  said  the  judge,  embracing 
her. 

"And,  papa,  my  life  has  not  run  to  waste;  do  not  think  it. 
I  told  you  that  my  troubles  had  not  touched  the  springs  of  my 
soul;  they  have  not.  Is  not  my  mind  as  strong  and  my  heart 
as  warm  and  my  spirit  as  sweet  as  ever?  Papa,  this  day  I  am 
a  better  woman  for  all  the  troubles  I  have  passed  through.  I 
have  never  before  been  much  comfort  to  you,  my  poor  papa; 
but  I  will  go  with  you  to  Tanglewood  and  make  your  home 
happier  than  it  has  ever  been  since  mamma  died.  And  you 
will  find  that  my  life  shall  be  redeemed  from  waste." 

"  Claudia,  are  you  sure  that  you  do  not  love  that  rascal — not 
even  a  little?" 

"Papa,  I  do  not  even  hate  him;  now  judge  if  I  ever  could 
have  loved  him." 

But  the  judge  was  no  metaphysician,  and  he  looked  puzzled. 

"  Papa,  if  I  ever  had  loved  that  man,  do  you  not  suppose  that 
his  unfaithfulness,  neglect,  and  insults,  to  say  nothing  of  his 
last  foul  wrong  against  me,  would  have  turned  all  my  love  into 
hatred?  But  I  never  loved  him,  therefore  all  that  he  could  do 
would  not  provoke  my  hatred.  Papa,  he  is  as  much  below  my 
hatred  as  my  love."  / 

"  Oh,  Claudia,  Claudia,  that  you  should  be  compelled  to 
speak  so  of  ore  whom  you  made  your  husband ! " 

"Papa,  dear,  you  asked  me  a  question  and  I  have  replied  to 
it  truthfully." 

"  My  dear,  1  had  a  motive  for  putting  that  question.  I 
wished  to  know  whether  a  spark  of  love  for  that  man  survived 
in  your  heart  to  make  his  punishment  a  matter  of  painful  in 
terest  to  you.  For  io  vindicate  you,  Claudia,  it  may  become 
necessary  to  prosecute  him  with  the  utmost  rigor  of  the  law; 


338         SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

necessary,  in  fact,  to  disgrace  and  ruin  him,"  said  the  judge 
solemnly. 

"  Papa,  dear,  what  are  you  talking  about  ?  Prosecute  him  to 
the  utmost  extent  of  the  law?  Disgrace  and  ruin  him?  Why, 
it  appears  to  me  that  you  do  not  know  the  circumstances,  as 
of  course  you  cannot.  He  has  schemed  so  successfully,  papa, 
that  he  has  everything  his  own  way.  All  the  evidence,  the  false 
but  damning  evidence,  is  in  his  favor  and  against  me.  It 
seems  to  me,  reflecting  coolly  upon  the  circumstances,  to  be  quite 
impossible  that  he  should  be  punished  or  I  should  be  vindicated 
— in  this  world  at  least." 

"  Claudia,  I  know  more  of  these  circumstances  than  you  think 
I  do.  I  know  more  of  them  than  you  do;  and  I  repeat  that,  in 
order  to  vindicate  your  honor  fully,  it  may  be  necessary  to 
prosecute  Malcolm,  Lord  Vincent,  with  the  utmost  rigor  of 
the  law;  to  bring  him  to  the  felon's  dock;  to  send  him  to  the 
hulks.  Now,  are  you  willing  that  this  should  be  done  ? " 

Claudia  turned  very  pale  and  answered : 

"Let  the  man  have  justice,  papa,  if  it  places  him  on  the 
scaffold." 

"  There  are  two  courses  open  to  us,  Claudia.  The  first  is — 
simply  to  let  him  alone  until  he  brings  his  suit  for  divorce,  and 
then  to  meet  him  on  that  ground  with  such  testimony  as  shall 
utterly  defeat  him  and  destroy  his  plea.  In  that  case  you  wil'l 
be  vindicated  from  the  charge  that  he  has  brought  against  you, 
but  not  from  the  reproach  that,  however  undeserved,  will  attach 
to  a  woman  who  has  been  the  defendant  in  a  divorce  trial,  and 
he  will  go  unpunished.  The  second  course  is  to  prosecute  him 
at  once  in  the  criminal  court  for  certain  of  his  crimes  that 
have  come  to  my  knowledge,  and  so  put  him  out  of  the  possi 
bility  of  suing  for  a  divorce.  And  in  that  case  your  honor 
would  go  unquestioned,  and  he  would  be  condemned  to  a 
felon's  fate — penal  servitude  for  years.  Now,  Claudia,  I  place 
the  man's  destiny  in  your  hands.  Shall  we  defend  ourselves 
against  him  in  a  divorce  court,  or  shall  we  prosecute  him  in  a 
criminal  court?" 

"Papa,"  said  Claudia,  hesitating,  and  then  speaking  low, 
"what  does  Ishmael  advise?" 

"Ishmael?  How  did  you  know  that  he  was  with  me,  my 
dear?" 

"  I  saw  his  name  in  the  list  of  passengers,  and  I  knew  that  he 
had  come  on  with  you  as  your  private  counselor." 


FATHER   AND    DAUGHTER.  359 

"Yes,  he  did,  at  a  vast  sacrifice  of  his  business;  but  then  I 
never  knew  Worth  to  shrink  from  any  self-sacrifice." 

"  What  is  his  advice  ? "  asked  Claudia,  in  a  low  voice. 

"He  dees  more  than  advise;  in  this  matter  he  dictates — I 
had  almost  said  he  commands;  at  least  he  insists  that  the  di 
vorce  suit  shall  not  be  permitted  to  come  on;  that  it  shall  be 
stopped  by  the  arrest  of  Lord  Vincent  upon  criminal  charges 
that  we  shall  be  able  to  prove  upon  him.  And  that  after  the 
conviction  of  the  viscount  you  shall  bring  suit  for  a  divorce 
ifrom  him;  for  that  it  would  not  be  well  that  your  fate  should 
remain  linked  to  that  of  a  felon." 

"  Then,  papa,  let  it  be  as  Mr.  Worth  says;  and  if  the  prose 
cution  should  place  the  viscount  on  the  scaffold — let  it  place 
him  there." 

"  It  will  not  go  so  far  as  that,  my  dear — not  in  this  century. 
If  he  had  lived  in  the  last  century,  and  amused  himself  as  he 
has  done  in  this,  he  would  have  swung  for  it,  that  is  cer 
tain." 

"  Papa,  what  is  it  that  you  have  found  out  about  him  ? 
Was  he  implicated  in  the  death  of  poor  Ailsie  Dunbar?  And, 
if  so,  how  did  you  find  it  out?  Tell  me." 

"  My  dearest,  we  have  both  much  to  tell  each  other.  But  I 
wish  to  hear  your  story  first.  Remember,  Claudia,  those  alarm 
ing  letters  you  sent  me  were  very  meager  in  their  details.  Tell 
me  everything,  my  child ;  everything  from  the  time  you  left  me 
until  the  time  you  met  me  again." 

"Papa,  dear,  it  is  a  long,  grievous,  terrible  story.  I  do  not 
know  how  you  will  bear  it.  You  are  sensitive,  excitable,  im 
petuous.  I  scarcely  dare  to  tell  you.  I  fear  to  see  how  you 
will  bear  it.  I  dread  its  effects  upon  you." 

"  Claudia,  my  dearest,  conceal  nothing ;  tell  me  all ;  and  I 
promise  to  restrain  my  emotions  and  listen  to  you  calmly." 

Upon  this  Claudia  commenced  the  narrative  of  her  su^  wrings 
from  the  moment  of  parting  with  her  father  at  Boston  to  the 
moment  of  meeting  with  him  at  Cameron  Court.  The  reader 
is  already  acquainted  with  the  story,  and  does  not  need  to  hear 
Claudia's  narration.  Judge  Merlin  also  knew  much  of  it;  as 
much  as  old  Katie  had  been  able  to  impart  to  him;  but  he  wished 
to  hear  a  more  intelligent  version  of  it  from  his  daughter.  It 
was,  as  she  had  said,  a  long,  sorrowful,  terrible  story;  such  as 
it  was  not  in  the  nature  of  woman  to  recite  calmly.  Some  parts 
©f  it  were  told  with  pale  cheeks,  faltering  tones,  and  falling 


340        SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

tears;  other  parts  were  told  with  fiery  blushes,  flashing  eyes, 
and  clenched  hands. 

At  its  conclusion  Claudia  said: 

"  There,  papa,  I  have  hidden  nothing.  I  have  told  you  every 
thing.  Now  at  last  you  will  believe  me  when  I  tell  you  how 
perfectly  relieved  I  feel  only  to  be  out  of  that  purgatory — 
only  to  be  away  from  those  fiends!  Now  at  last  you  will  see 
how  it  is  that  I  can  say  without  ruth,  '  Let  Malcolm,  Lord 
Vincent,  have  justice,  though  that  justice  consign  him  to 
penal  servitude,  or  to  the  gallows ! '  But,  papa,  when  I  said  I 
had  no  trouble  left,  I  spoke  in  momentary  forgetfulness  of  my 
poor  servants;  Heaven  forgive  me  for  it!  Though,  really, 
uncertainty  about  their  fate  is  the  only  care  I  have." 

"  My  dear,"  said  the  judge,  who  had  comported  himself  with 
wonderful  calmness  through  the  trying  hour  of  Claudia's  nar 
ration  ;  "  my  dear,  cast  that  care  to  the  winds.  Your  servants 
are  safe  and  well  and  near  at  hand." 

" '  Safe  and  well,  and  near  at  hand ! '  Oh,  papa,  are  you  cer 
tain — quite  certain?"  exclaimed  Claudia,  in  joy  modified  by 
doubt. 

"  Quite  certain,  my  dearest,  since  I  myself  lodged  them  at 
Magruder's  Hotel  this  morning,"  said  the  judge. 

"  Oh,  thank  Heaven !  "  exclaimed  Claudia  fervently.  "  But, 
papa,  tell  me  all  about  it.  When,  where,  and  how  were  they 
found?" 

"About  three  weeks  ago,  in  Havana,  by  Ishmael,"  answered 
the  judge,  speaking  directly  to  the  point. 

His  daughter  looked  so  amazed  that  he  hastened  to  say: 

"It  is  easily  understood,  Claudia.  You  mentioned  in  the 
course  of  your  narrative  that  you  suspected  the  viscount  of 
having  spirited  away  the  negroes.  Your  suspicion  was  correct. 
Through  the  agency  of  chloroform  he  abducted  the  negroes 
and  got  them  on  board  a  West  Indian  smuggler,  that  took  them 
to  Havana  and  sold  them  into  slavery.  When  we  went  there 
on  the  '  Santiago/  we  found,  recognized,  and  recovered  them." 

"  And  what  was  his  motive — the  viscount's  motive,  I  mean — 
for  selling  my  poor  negroes  into  slavery,  and  thereby  commit 
ting  a  felony  that  would  endanger  his  reputation  and  liberty? 
It  could  not  have  been  want  of  money.  The  highest  price  they 
would  bring  could  scarcely  be  an  object  to  the  Viscount  Vin 
cent.  What,  then,  could  have  been  his  motive  ? " 

"  What  you  mentioned  that  you  suspected  it  to  be,  Claudia: 


FATHER   AND   DAUGHTER.  341 

to  get  rid  of  dangerous  witnesses  against  himself.  But  I  had 
better  tell  you  the  whole  story,"  said  the  judge;  and  with  that 
he  began  and  related  the  history  of  the  conspiracy  entered  into 
by  the  viscount,  the  valet,  and  the  ex-opera  singer,  and  over 
heard  by  Katie;  the  discovery  and  seizure  of  the  eavesdropper; 
and  the  abduction  and  sale  of  the  negroes. 

At  the  conclusion  of  this  narrative  he  said 

"  So  you  see,  Claudia,  that  we  have  got  this  man  completely 
in  our  power.  Look  at  his  crimes.  First,  complicity  in  the  mur 
der  of  Ailsie  Dunbar;  secondly,  conspiracy  against  your  honor; 
thirdly,  kidnaping  and  slave-trading.  The  man  is  already 
ruined;  and  you,  my  dear,  are  saved." 

"  Oh,  thank  Heaven,  thank  Heaven,  that  at  least  my  name  will 
be  rescued  from  reproach ! "  cried  Claudia  earnestly,  clasp 
ing  her  hands  and  bursting  into  tears  of  joy,  and  weeping  on  her 
father's  bosom. 

"  Yes,  Claudia,"  he  whispered,  as  he  gently  soothed  her; 
"  yes,  my  child — thank  Heaven  first  of  all !  for  there  was  some 
thing  strangely  providential  in  the  seemingly  dire  misfortune 
that  was  the  cause  of  our  being  taken  to  Havana.  For  if  we 
had  not  gone  thither,  we  should  never  have  found  the  negroes; 
and  if  we  had  not  found  them,  it  would  have  been  difficult,  or 
impossible,  to  have  vindicated  you." 

"  Oh,  I  know  it.    And  I  do  thank  Heaven." 

"  And,  after  Heaven,  there  is  one  on  earth  to  whom  your 
thanks  are  due — Ishmael  Worth.  Not  because  he  was  the  first 
to  find  the  negroes,  for  that  was  an  accident,  but  because  he 
sacrificed  so  much  in  order  to  attend  me  on  this  voyage;  and 
because  he  has  been  of  such  inestimable  value  to  me  in  this 
business.  Claudia,  but  that  I  had  him  with  me  in  Havana,  I 
should  not  now  be  by  your  side.  But  that  I  had  him  with  me, 
I  should  have  plunged  myself  headlong  into  two  law  cases 
that  would  have  detained  me  in  Havana  for  an  indefinite  time. 
But  that  I  had  him  with  me  to  restrain,  to  warn,  and  to  counsel 
I  should  have  prosecuted  the  smugglers  for  their  share  in  the 
abduction  of  the  negroes,  and  I  should  have  sued  the  owners 
for  the  recovery  of  them.  But  I  yielded  to  Ishmael's  earnest 
advice,  and  by  the  sacrifice  of  a  sum  of  money  and  a  desire  of 
vengeance,  I  got  easy  possession  of  the  negroes  and  brought 
them  on  here.  You  owe  much  to  Ishmael  Worth,  Claudia." 

"  I  know  it,  oh,  I  know  it !     May  Heaven  reward  him !  " 

"And  now  our  witnesses   are  at  hand;   and  before  night, 


342         SELF-RAISED;  OB,  FBOM  THE  DEPTHS. 

Claudia,  warrants  shall  be  issued  lor  the  arrest  of  the  Viscount 
Vincent,  Alick  Frisbie,  and  Faustina  Dugald." 

"  They  can  have  no  suspicion  of  what  is  coming  upon  them, 
and  therefore  will  have  no  chance  to  escape." 

"  Not  a  bit.    We  shall  come  upon  them  unawares." 

"How  astonished  they  will  be." 

"Yes — and  how  confounded  when  confronted  with  my  wit 
nesses." 

"  Papa,  I  am  not  malicious,  but  I  think  I  should  like  to  see 
their  faces  then." 

"My  dearest  Claudia,  you  will  have  to  imagine  them.  You 
will  not  be  an  eye-witness  of  their  confusion.  You  will  not  be 
required  either  at  the  preliminary  examination  or  at  the  trial, 
and  it  would  not  be  seemly  that  you  should  appear  at  either.'* 

"  Oh,  I  know  that,  papa.  And  I  am  very  glad  that  I  shall 
not  be  wanted.  But  will  the  testimony  of  those  three  negroes 
be  sufficient  to  convict  the  criminals  ? " 

"  Amply.  But  that  testimony  will  not  be  unsupported.  We 
shall  summon  the  steward  and  housekeeper  of  Castle  Cragg. 
And  now,  my  dear,  I  must  leave  you,  if  the  warrants  are  to  be 
Issued  to-day,"  said  the  judge,  rising. 

"  So  soon,  papa  ?  " 

"  It  is  necessary,  my  dear." 

"  But,  at  any  rate,  you  will  be  back  very  shortly  ? " 

"I  do  not  know,  my  child." 

"  The  countess  expects  you  to  make  Cameron  Court  your 
Kome  while  you  remain  in  the  neighborhood." 

"Lady  Hurstmonceux  has  not  said  so  to  me,  Claudia." 

"  She  has  had  no  fit  opportunity.  Wait  till  you  start  to 
go." 

"  By  the  way,  I  must  take  leave  of  my  kind  hostess,"  said  the 
judge,  looking  around  the  room  as  if  in  search  of  something  or 
somebody. 

Claudia  touched  the  bell.     A  footman  entered. 

"  Let  the  countess  know  that  the  judge  is  going." 

The  servant  bowed  and  withdrew,  and  Lady  Hurstmonceux 
entered. 

"  Going  so  soon,  Judge  Merlin  ? "  she  said. 

"Just  what  my  daughter  has  this  moment  asked.  Yes, 
madam ;  and  you  will  acknowledge  the  urgency  of  my  business, 
when  I  tell  you  it  is  to  lodge  information  against  Lord  Vin 
cent  and  his  accomplices,  and  procure  their  immediate  arrest, 


FATHER   AND   DAUGHTER.  343 

upon  the  charge  of  certain  grave  crimes  that  have  come  to  my 
knowledge,  and  that  I  am  prepared  to  prove  upon  them." 

"  You  astonish  me,  sir.  I  certainly  had  reason  to  suspect 
Lord  Vincent  and  his  disreputable  companions,  but  I  am  amazed 
that  in  so  short  a  time  you  should  have  ferreted  out  so 
much." 

"  It  was  accident,  madam ;  or  rather,"  said  the  judge,  gravely 
bending  his  head,  "  it  was  Providence.  My  daughter  will  ex 
plain  the  circumstances  to  you,  madam.  And  now,  will  you 
permit  me  once  more  to  thank  you  for  your  great  goodness  to 
me  and  mine,  and  to  bid  you  good-morning?" 

"  I  hope  it  will  be  only  good-morning,  then,  judge,  and  not 
good-by.  I  beg  that  you  will  return  and  take  up  your  residence 
with  us  while  you  remain  in  Scotland,"  said  the  countess,  with 
her  sweetest  smile. 

"  I  should  be  delighted  as  well  as  honored,  madam,  in  being 
your  guest,  but  I  am  off  to  Banff  by  the  midday  train." 

"  Off  to  Banff  ? "  repeated  Berenice  and  Claudia,  in  a  breath. 

"  Certainly." 

"What  is  that  for?"  inquired  Claudia. 

''Why,  my  dear,  there  is  where  I  must  lodge  information 
against  the  viscount  and  his  accomplices.  There  is  where  the 
crimes  were  committed,  and  where  the  warrants  must  be  issued." 

"  Oh,  I  see." 

"  I  had  forgotten.  I  was  thinking ;  or  rather  without  think 
ing  at  all,  I  was  taking  it  for  granted  that  it  could  be  all  done 
in  Edinboro',"  smiled  the  countess. 

"  Madam,  I  must  still  leave  niy  daughter  a  pensioner  on  your 
kindness  for  a  few  days,"  said  the  judge,  with  a  bow. 

"You  say  that  as  if  you  supposed  it  possible  for  me  to  per 
mit  you  to  do  anything  else  with  her,"  laughed  the  countess, 
holding  out  her  hand  to  the  judge.  He  raised  it  to  his  lips, 
bowed  over  it,  and  resigned  it,  all  in  the  stately  old-time  way,, 
Then  he  turned  to  his  daughter,  embraced  her,  and  departed. 

"  Now,  Claudia,  tell  me  what  the  judge  has  found  out  about 
Vincent.  Was  he  implicated  in  that  murder?  I  shouldn't 
wonder  if  he  was,"  said  the  countess  impatiently. 

"  That  is  just  what  I  thought ;  but  that  is  not  the  case.  Oh, 
Berenice,  what  a  revelation  it  is;  but  I  will  tell  you  all  about 
it,"  said  Claudia. 

And  when  they  were  cozily  seated  together  beside  the  draw 
ing-room  fire  Claudia  related  the  story  her  father  had  told 


344         SELF-RAISED;  OB,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

her  of  the  conspiracy  against  her  own  honor,  the  abduction  and 
sale  of  the  negroes,  and  the  recognition  and  recovery  of  them, 

"  I  am  not  surprised  at  anything  in  that  story  but  the  provi 
dential  manner  in  which  the  servants  were  recovered.  I  be 
lieve  the  viscount  capable  of  any  crime,  or  restrained  only  by 
his  cowardice.  If  he  should  hesitate  at  assassination,  I  be 
lieve  that  it  would  not  be  from  the  horror  of  blood-guiltiness, 
but  from  the  fear  of  the  gallows.  I  hope  that  no  weak  relenting, 
Claudia,  will  cause  either  you  or  your  father  to  spare  such  a 
ruthless  monster." 

"No,  Berenice,  no.  I  have  said  to  my  father,  'Let  Lord 
Vincent  have  justice,  though  that  justice  place  him  in  the 
felon's  dock,  in  the  hulks,  or  on  the  scaffold.'  No,  I  do  not  be 
lieve  it  would  be  fair  to  the  community  to  turn  such  a  man  loose 
upon  them." 

While  Lady  Hurstmonceux  and  Lady  Vincent  conversed  in 
this  manner,  Judge  Merlin  drove  to  Edinboro'. 

He  reached  Magruder's  Hotel,  where  he  had  left  Ishmael 
Worth,  the  professor,  and  the  three  negroes. 

Ishmael  had  lost  no  time;  he  had  seen  that  the  whole  party 
had  breakfast;  and  then  he  had  gone  himself  and  engaged  a 
first-class  carriage  in  the  express  train  that  started  for  Aber 
deen  at  twelve,  noon. 

They  were  now  therefore  only  waiting  for  Judge  Merlin. 
And  as  soon  as  the  judge  arrived  the  whole  party  started  for 
the  station,  which  they  reached  in  time  to  catch  the  train. 
Three  hours'  steaming  northward  and  they  ran  into  the  station 
at  Aberdeen.  The  stage  was  just  about  starting  for  Banff. 
They  got  into  it  at  once,  and  in  three  more  hours  of  riding 
they  reached  that  picturesque  old  town. 

Merely  waiting  long  enough  to  engage  rooms  at  the  best  hotel 
and  deposit  their  luggage  there,  they  took  a  carriage  and  drove 
to  the  house  of  Sir  Alexander  McKetchum,  who  was  one  of  the 
most  respected  magistrates  of  Banff. 

Judge  Merlin  introduced  himself  and  his  party,  produced  his 
credentials,  laid  his  charge,  and  presented  his  witnesses. 

To  say  that  the  worthy  Scotcn  justice  was  astonished,  amazed, 
would  scarcely  be  to  describe  the  state  of  panic  and  conster 
nation  into  which  he  was  thrown. 

Long  he  demurred  and  hesitated  over  the  affair;  again  and 
again  he  questioned  the  accusers;  over  and  over  again  he  re 
quired  to  hear  the  statement ;  and  slowly  and  reluctantly  at  last 


ARKEST   OF   LOUD   VINCENT   AND    FAUSTINA.       345 

he  consented  to  issue  the  warrants  for  the  apprehension  of  Lord 
Vincent,  Alick  Frisbie,  and  Faustina  Dugald. 

Ishmael  took  care  to  see  that  these  warrants  were  placed  in 
the  hands  of  an  efficient  policeman,  with  orders  that  he  should 
proceed  at  once  to  the  arrest  of  the  parties  named  within  them. 

And  then  our  party  returned  to  their  hotel  to  await  results. 


CHAPTEE  XLI. 

ARREST  OF  LORD  VINCENT  AND  FAUSTINA. 

Our  plots  fall  short  like  darts  that  rash  hands  throw 
With  an  ill  aim  that  have  so  far  to  go, 
Nor  can  we  long  discovery  prevent, 
We  deal  too  much  among  the  innocent. 

— Howard. 

Lord  Vincent  was  at  Castle  Cragg.  Unable  to  absent  him 
self  long  from  the  siren  who  was  the  evil  genius  of  his  life,  he 
had  come  down  on  a  quiet  visit  to  her.  A  very  quiet  visit  it 
was,  for  he  affected  jealously  to  guard  the  honor  of  one  who  in 
truth  had  no  honor  to  lose.  The  guilty  who  have  much  to  con 
ceal  are  often  more  discreet  than  the  innocent  who  have  noth 
ing  to  fear. 

Mrs.  MacDonald  was  still  at  the  castle,  playing  propriety  to 
the  beauty.  A  very  complacent  person  was  Mrs.  MacDonald. 

This  precaution  deceived  no  one.  The  neighboring  gentry 
rightly  estimated  the  domestic  life  at  Castle  Cragg  and  the 
character  of  its  inmates,  and  refrained  from  calling  there. 

This  avoidance  of  her  society  by  the  county  families  galled 
Faustina, 

"  What  do  they  mean  by  it  ? "  she  said  to  herself.  "  I  am  the 
Honorable  Mrs.  Dugald.  Ah,  they  think  I  have  lost  myself. 
But  they  shall  know  better  when  they  see  me  the  Viscountess 
Vincent,  and  afterwards,  no  one  knows  how  soon,  Countess  of 
Hurstmonceux  and  Marchioness  of  Banff!  Ah,  what  a  differ 
ence  that  will  make !  " 

And  Faustina  consoled  herself  with  anticipations  of  a  bril 
liant  future,  in  which  she  would  reign  as  a  queen  over  these 
scornful  prudes.  But  Faustina  reckoned  without  Nemesis, 
her  creditor.  And  Nemesis  was  at  the  door. 

It  was  a  wild  night.  The  snowstorm  that  had  been  threaten 
ing  all  day  long  came  down  like  avalanches  whirled  before 


346  SELF-RAISED  J    OR,    FROM   THE   DEPTHS. 

the  northern  blast.  It  was  a  night  in  which  no  one  would  will 
ingly  go  abroad ;  when  everyone  keenly  appreciated  the  comforts 
of  shelter. 

Very  comfortable  on  this  evening  was  Mrs.  Dugald's  boudoir. 
The  crimson  carpet  and  crimson  curtains  glowed  ruddy  red 
in  the  lamplight  and  firelight.  The  thundering  dash  of  the  sea 
upon  the  castle  rock  below  came,  softened  into  a  soothing  lul 
laby,  to  this  bower  of  beauty. 

Lord  Vincent  and  Mrs.  Dugald  were  seated  at  an  elegant 
and  luxurious  little  supper  that  would  have  satisfied  the  most 
fastidious  and  dainty  epicure.  Three  courses  had  been  removed. 
The  fourth — the  dessert — was  upon  the  table.  Rare  flowers 
bloomed  in  costly  vases;  ripe  fruits  blushed  in  gilded  baskets; 
rich  wines  sparkled  in  antique  flasks. 

On  one  side  of  the  table  Faustina  reclined  gracefully  in  a 
crimson  velvet  easy-chair.  The  siren  was  beautifully  dressed 
in  the  pure  white  that  her  sin-smutted  soul,  in  its  falsehood, 
affected.  Her  robe  was  of  shining  white  satin,  trimmed  with 
soft  white  swan's-down;  fine  white  lace  delicately  veiled  her 
snowy  neck  and  arms;  white  lilies  of  the  valley  wreathed  her 
raven  hair  and  rested  on  her  rounded  bosom. 

She  looked  "  divine ,"  as  her  fool  of  a  lover  assured  her.  Yes, 
she  looked  "  divine  " — as  the  devil  did  when  he  appeared  in  the 
image  of  an  angel  of  light. 

How  did  she  dare,  that  guilty  and  audacious  woman,  to 
assume  a  dress  that  symbolized  purity  and  humility? 

Lord  Vincent  lolled  in  the  other  armchair  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  table,  and  from  under  his  languid  and  half -tipsy 
eyelids  cast  passionate  glances  upon  her. 

Mrs.  Macdonald  had  withdrawn  her  chair  from  the  table 
and  nearer  the  fire,  and  had  fallen  asleep,  or  complacently 
affected  to  do  so;  for  Mrs.  MacDonald  was  the  soul  of  compla 
cency.  Mrs.  Dugald  declared  that  she  was  a  love  of  an  old 
lady. 

"What  a  night  it  is  outside!  It  is  good  to  be  here,"  said 
Faustina,  taking  a  bunch  of  ripe  grapes  and  turning  towards  the 
fire. 

"Yes,  my  angel,"  answered  the  viscount  drowsily,  regarding 
her  from  under  his  eyelids.  "  What  a  bore  it  is !  " 

"  What  is  a  bore  ?  "  inquired  Faustina,  putting  a  ripe  grape 
between  her  plump  lips. 

"  That  we  are  not  married,  my  sweet." 


AKREST   OF   LOED    VINCENT   AND    FAUSTINA.       347 

"Eh  bien!  we  soon  shall  be." 

"  Then  why  do  you  keep  me  at  such  a  distance,  my  angel  ? " 

"  Ah,  bah !  think  of  something  else !  " 

The  viscount  poured  out  a  bumper  of  rich  port  and  raised 
it  to  his  lips. 

"Put  that  wine  down,  Malcolm,  you  have  had  too  much  al 
ready." 

He  obeyed  her  and  set  the  glass  untested  on  the  board. 

"  That's  a  duck ;  now  you  shall  have  some  grapes,"  she  said, 
and,  with  pretty,  childish  grace,  she  began  to  pick  the  ripest 
grapes  from  her  bunch  and  to  put  them  one  by  one  into  the 
noble  noodle's  mouth. 

"  It  is  nice  to  be  here,  is  it  not,  mon  ami  ? "  she  smilingly 
asked. 

"  Yes,  sweet  angel ! "  he  sighed  languishingly. 

"  And  when  one  thinks  of  the  black  dark  and  sharp  cold  and 
deep  snow  outside,  and  of  travelers  losing  their  way,  and  getting 
buried  in  the  drifts  and  freezing  to  death,  one  feels  so  happy 
and  comfortable  in  this  warm,  light  room,  eating  fruit  and 
drinking  wine." 

"Yes,  sweet  angel!  but  you  won't  let  me  have  any  more 
wine,"  said  the  viscount  drowsily. 

"You  have  had  more  than  enough,"  she  smiled,  putting  a 
ripe  grape  between  his  gaping  lips. 

"  Just  as  you  say,  sweet  love !  You  know  I  am  your  slave. 
You  do  with  me  as  you  like,"  he  answered  stupidly. 

"Now,"  said  Faustina,  her  thoughts  still  running  on  the 
contrast  between  the  storm  without  and  the  comfort  within, 
"  what  in  this  world  would  tempt  one  to  leave  the  house  on  such 
a  night  as  this  ?  " 

"  Nothing  in  this  world,  sweet  love !  " 

"  Malcolm,  I  do  not  think  I  would  go  out  to-night,  even  in  a 
close  carriage,  for  a  thousand  pounds." 

"  No,  my  angel,  nor  for  ten  thousand  pounds  should  you  go." 

"I  like  to  think  of  the  people  that  are  out  in  the  cold, 
though.  It  doubles  my  enjoyment,"  she  said,  as  she  put  another 
fine  grape  in  his  mouth. 

"  Yes,  sweet  love !  "  he  answered  drowsily,  closing  his  fingers 
on  her  hand  and  drawing  her  forcibly  towards  him. 

"  Ah !  stop !  "  she  exclaimed,  under  her  breath,  and  directing 
his  attention  to  Mrs.  MaoDonald,  who  sat  with  her  eyes  closed 
in  the  easy-chair  by  the  chimney  corner. 


348  SELF-RAISED  J   OR,   FROM  THE   DEPTHS. 

"  She  is  asleep,"  said  the  viscount,  in  a  hoarse  whisper. 

"  No,  no !  you  are  not  certain ! "  whispered  Faustina. 

"  Come,  come !  sit  close  to  me  I  "  exclaimed  the  viscount,  with 
fierce  vehemence,  drawing  her  towards  him. 

"  You  forget  yourself  1  You  are  drunk,  Malcolm ! "  cried 
Faustina,  resisting  his  efforts. 

At  that  moment  there  came  a  rap  at  the  door;  it  was  a  soft, 
low  tap,  yet  it  startled  the  viscount  like  a  thunderclap.  He 
dropped  the  hand  of  Faustina  and  demanded  angrily : 

"  Who  the  fiend  is  there?  " 

There  was  no  answer,  but  the  rap  was  gently  repeated. 

"  Speak,  then,  can't  you  ?    Who  the  demon  are  you  ?  "  he  cried. 

"  Why  don't  you  tell  them  to  come  in  ? "  said  Faustina,  in  a 
displeased  tone. 

"  Come  in,  then,  set  fire  to  you,  whoever  you  are !  "  exclaimed 
Lord  Vincent. 

The  door  was  opened  and  old  Cuthbert  softly  entered. 

"What  the  fiend  do  you  want,  sir?"  haughtily  demanded 
the  viscount;  for  he  had  lately  taken  a  great  dislike  to  old 
Cuthbert,  as  well  as  to  every  respectable  servant  in  the  house, 
whose  humble  integrity  was  a  tacit  rebuke  to  his  own  dishonor; 
and  least  of  all  would  he  endure  the  intrusion  of  one  of  them 
upon  his  interviews  with  Faustina. 

"  What  brings  you  here,  I  say  ?  "  he  repeated. 

"  An'  it  please  your  lairdship,  there  are  twa  poleecemen  down 
stairs,  wi'  a  posse  at  their  tails,"  answered  the  old  man,  bowing 
humbly. 

"  What  is  their  business  here  ? " 

"  I  dinna  ken,  me  laird." 

"Something  about  that  stupid  murder,  I  suppose." 

Faustina  started;  she  was  probably  thinking  of  Katie. 

"I  dinna  think  it  is  onything  connected  wi'  Ailsie's  death, 
me  laird." 

"What  then?  What  mare's  neet  have  they  found  now, 
the  stupid  Dogberries  ?  " 

"I  canna  tak'  upon  mesel'  to  say,  me  laird.  But  they  are 
asking  for  yer  lairdship  and  Mistress  Dugald." 

"Me!" 

This  exclamation  came  from  Faustina,  who  turned  deadly 
pale,  and  stared  wildly  at  the  speaker.  Indeed  her  eyes  and 
her  face  could  be  compared  to  nothing  else  but  two  great  black 
balls  set  in  a  marble  mask. 


AKKEST   OF   LOED    VINCENT   AND   FAUSTINA.       349 

"Me!" 

"Aye,  mem,  e'en  just  for  yer  ain  sel',  and  na  ither,  forbye 
it  be  his  lairdship's  sel',"  replied  the  old  man,  bowing  with  out 
ward  humility  and  secret  satisfaction,  for  Cuthbert  cordially 
disapproved  and  disliked  Faustina. 

"Horror!  I  see  how  it  is!  The  dead  body  of  the  black 
woman  has  been  cast  up  by  the  sea,  as  I  knew  it  would  be,  and 
we  shall  be  guillotined — no! — hanged,  hanged  by  the  neck  till 
we  are  dead ! "  she  cried,  wringing  and  twisting  her  hands  in 
deadly  terror. 

"  I  wish  to  Heaven  you  may  be,  for  an  incorrigible  fool ! " 
muttered  the  viscount,  in  irrepressible  anger;  for,  you  see,  his 
passion  for  this  woman  was  not  of  a  nature  to  preclude  the 
possibility  of  his  falling  into  a  furious  passion  with  her  upon 
occasions  like  this.  "  What  madness  has  seized  you  now  ? "  he 
continued.  "  There  is  no  danger ;  you  have  no  cause  to  be 
alarmed.  They  have  probably  come  about  the  murder  of  Ailsie 
Dunbar,  Satan  burn  them !  Cuthbert,  what  are  you  lingering 
here  for  ?  Go,  see  what  it  is !  " 

The  old  man  bowed  lowly,  and  left  the  room. 

"  Faustina ! "  exclaimed  the  viscount,  as  soon  as  Cuthbert 
had  gone,  "your  folly  will  be  the  ruin  of  us  both  some  day — 
will  lead  to  discovery!  Can  you  not  let  the  black  woman,  as 
you  call  her,  rest?  Why  will  you  be  so  indiscreet?" 

"  Oh,  it  is  you  who  are  indiscreet  now,"  exclaimed  Faustina, 
clasping  her  hands  and  glancing  towards  Mrs.  MacDonald, 
whose  sleep  seemed  too  deep  to  be  real. 

"  Try  to  govern  yourself,  then ! "  said  the  viscount. 

"Ah,  how  can  I,  when  I  am  quaking  like  a  jelly  with  my 
terror?" 

"  You  should  not  undertake  dangerous  crimes  unless  you 
possess  heroic  courage,"  said  the  viscount. 

"  Mon  Dieu !  it  is  you  who  will  ruin  us ! "  cried  Faustina, 
stamping  her  small  feet  and  pointing  to  Mrs.  MacDonald. 

The  viscount  laughed. 

And  at  this  moment  old  Cuthbert  re-entered  the  room. 

"Well?"  asked  Lord  Vincent. 

"If  you  please,  me  laird,  they  say  they  maun  see  yer  laird- 
ship's  sel'  and  the  leddy,"  said  the  old  man. 

"  What  the  blazes  do  they  want  with  us  ?  Was  ever  anything 
so  insolently  persistent?  Go  and  tell  the  fellows  that  I  cannot 
and  will  not  see  them  to-night!  And  if  they  are  disappointed 


350  SELF-KAISED ;   OR,    FROM   THE   DEPTHS. 

it  will  serve  them  right  for  coming  out  on  such  a  night  a«  this, 
They  must  have  been  mad ! " 

"  Verra  weel,  me  laird.  I'll  tell  them,"  said  the  old  man, 
departing. 

"  Compose  yourself,  Faustina,  this  business  has  no  reference 
to  you,  I  assure  you.  When  they  asked  for  us,  they  merely 
wished  to  see  us  to  put  some  questions  about  the  case  of  Ailsie 
Dunbar,"  said  the  viscount,  who  had  not  the  slightest  suspicion 
that  there  was,  or  could  be,  a  warrant  out  for  his  arrest.  He 
fancied  himself  entirely  secure  in  his  crimes.  He  believed 
the  negroes  to  be  safe  beyond  the  sea;  sold  into  slavery  in  a 
land  of  which  they  did  not  even  understand  the  language,  and 
from  which  they  never  would  be  allowed  to  return.  He  be 
lieved  Claudia  to  be  crushed  under  the  conspiracy  he  had 
formed  against  her.  He  believed  her  father  to  be  far  away. 
And  so  he  considered  himself  safe  from  all  interruptions  of 
his  iniquities.  What  was  there,  in  fact,  to  arouse  his  fears? 
What  had  he  to  dread  ? 

Nothing,  he  thought. 

And  he  was  still  laughing  at  Faustina's  weakness  as  he  stood 
with  his  back  to  the  fire,  when  once  more  the  door  opened  and 
old  Cuthbert  reappeared,  wearing  a  frightened  countenance 
and  followed  by  two  policemen. 

Faustina  shrieked  with  terror,  covered  her  face  with  her 
hands,  and  shrunk  back  in  her  chair.  Mrs.  MacDonald,  aroused 
by  the  shriek  from  her  real  or  feigned  sleep,  opened  her  eyes 
and  stared. 

But  Lord  Vincent,  astonished  and  indignant,  strode  towards 
the  door  and  demanded  of  his  old  servant : 

"  What  means  this  intrusion,  sir  ?  Did  I  not  order  you  to  say 
to  these  persons  that  I  would  not  see  them  to-night?  How 
dare  you  bring  them  to  this  room  ?  " 

"  'Deed,  me  laird,  I  could  na.  help  it !  When  I  gi'e  them 
yer  lairdship's  message  they  e'en  just  bid  me  gang  before,  and 
sae  they  followed  me  up,  pushing  me  to  the  right  and  left  at 
their  ain  will,"  said  Cuthbert  sullenly. 

Lord  Vincent  turned  to  the  intruders  and  haughtily  de 
manded  : 

"What  is  the  meaning  of  this  conduct,  fellows?  Were  you 
not  told  that  I  would  not  see  you  to-night  ?  How  dare  you  push 
yourselves  up  into  the  private  apartment  of  these  ladies  ?  Leave 
the  room  and  the  house  instantly." 


'I  ARREST  You  IN  THE  QUEEN'S  NAME." 

—Page  351- 


ARREST   OF   LORD    VINCENT   AND    FAUSTINA.       351 

"  We  will  leave  the  room  and  the  house,  my  lord ;  but,  when 
we  do  so,  you  and  that  lady  must  go  with  us,"  said  the  taller 
of  the  two  policemen,  advancing  into  the  room. 

"  What  ?  "  demanded  the  viscount. 

"  Mon  Dieu !  "  shrieked  Faustina. 

"  Gracious,  goodness,  me,  alive !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  MacDonald. 

"  You  are  wanted,"  answered  the  policeman,  whose  name  by 
the  way  was  McRae. 

"  What  do  you  mean,  fellow  ?  Leave  the  room,  I  say,  before 
I  order  my  servant  to  kick  you  out!"  fiercely  cried  the  vis 
count. 

The  policeman  immediately  stepped  up  to  the  side  of  his 
lordship  and  laid  his  hand  upon  his  shoulder,  saying: 

"  Malcolm  Dugald,  Lord  Vincent,  you  are  my  prisoner." 

"  Your  prisoner,  you  scoundrel !  hands  off,  I  say ! "  cried  the 
viscount. 

"I  arrest  you  in  the  Queen's  name,  for  the  abduction  and 
selling  into  slavery  of  the  three  negroes,  Catherine  Mortimer, 
James  Mortimer,  and  Sarah  Sims,"  said  McRae,  taking  a 
firmer  hold  of  his  captive, 

"Let  go  my  collar,  you  infernal  villain,  and  show  me  your 
warrant ! "  thundered  Lord  Vincent,  wrenching  himself  from 
the  grasp  of  the  policeman. 

McRae  calmly  produced  his  warrant  and  placed  it  in  the 
hands  of  the  viscount. 

Lord  Vincent,  astonished,  terrified,  but  defiant,  held  the 
document  up  before  his  dazed  eyes  and  tried  to  read  it.  But 
though  he  held  it  up  with  both  hands  close  to  his  blanched  face, 
it  trembled  so  in  his  grasp  that  he  could  not  trace  the  characters 
written  upon  it. 

While  he  held  it  thus,  McRae  slyly  drew  something  from 
his  own  pocket,  approached  the  viscount  and — click!  click — 
the  handcuffs  were  fastened  upon  the  wrists  of  his  lordship ! 

Down  fluttered  the  warrant  from  the  relaxed  fingers  of  the 
viscount,  while  his  face,  exposed  to  view,  seemed  set  in  a  deadly 
panic  as  he  gazed  upon  his  captor. 

"  Look  to  him,  Ross,"  said  McRae,  addressing  his  comrade  and 
pointing  to  the  viscount. 

Then  he  stepped  up  to  the  cowering  form  of  Mrs.  Dugald, 
who  had  shrunk  to  the  very  back  of  her  deep  velvet  chair.  Lay 
ing  his  hand  upon  her  shoulder  he  said : 

"  Faustina  Dugald,  you  are  my  prisoner.    I  arrest  you,  in  the 


352        SELF-RAISED;  OB,  FBOM  THE  DEPTHS. 

Queen's  name,  upon  the  charge  of  having  aided  and  abetted 
Lord  Vincent  in  the  abduction  of " 

"  Oh,  horror !  let  me  go,  you  horrid  brute !  "  cried  Faustina, 
suddenly  finding  her  voice,  interrupting  the  officer  with  her 
shrieks  and  springing  from  under  his  hand. 

She  rushed  towards  the  passage  door  with  the  blind  impulse 
of  flight  and  tore  it  open,  only  to  find  herself  stopped  by  a  posse 
,of  constables  drawn  up  without.  They  had  come  in  force  strong 
(enough  to  overcome  resistance,  if  necessary, 
f  "  Give  yourself  up,  Faustina.  It  is  the  best  thing  you  can 
do,"  said  the  viscount. 

She  stared  wildly  like  a  hunted  hare,  and  then  turned  and 
made  a  dash  towards  her  bedroom  door,  but  only  to  be  caught 
in  the  arms  of  McRae,  who  stepped  suddenly  thither  to  inter 
cept  her  mad  flight. 

He  held  her  firmly  with  one  hand,  while  with  the  other  he 
drew  something  from  his  pocket  and  suddenly  snapped  the  hand 
cuffs  upon  her  wrists. 

She  burst  into  passionate  tears. 

"I  am  sorry  to  do  this,  madam,  but  you  forced  me  to  it," 
said  McRae  gravely  and  kindly. 

She  was  a  pitiable  object  as  she  stood  there,  guilty,  degraded, 
and  powerless.  Her  wreath  of  lilies  had  been  knocked  off  and 
trampled  under  foot  in  the  scuffle.  The  bouquet  of  lilies  that 
rested  on  her  bosom  was  crushed.  Her  lace  and  swan's-down 
trimmings  were  torn.  Her  hair  was  disheveled,  her  face  pale, 
and  her  eyes  streaming  with  tears. 

"  Why  do  they  make  me  a  prisoner  ? "  she  sobbed. 

"I  told  you,  madam,  it  was  for  your  share  in  the  abduction 
of " 

"Abduction!  abduction  1  I  don't  know  what  you  mean  by 
abduction!  I  did  not  kill  the  black  negro  person!  I  did  not 
rout  her  into  the  sea !  It  was  Lord  Vincent !  I  never  helped 
mm !  No,  not  at  all !  He  would  not  let  me !  And  if  he  would, 
I  should  not  have  done  it !  He  did  it  all  himself !  And  it  is 
cruel  to  make  a  poor,  small,  little  woman  suffer  for  what  a  big 
man  does !  "  she  cried,  amid  piteous  tears  and  sobs. 

"  Faustina !  Faustina !  what  are  you  saying  ? "  exclaimed 
the  viscount,  in  consternation. 

"The  truth,  my  lord  viscount;  you  know  it!  The  truth, 
messieurs,  I  assure  you!  Lord  Vincent  killed  the  black  negro 
woman  and  threw  her  into  the  sea!  And  I  had  nothing  to  do 


ABBEST   OF   LORD   VINCENT   AND    FAUSTINA.       353 

with  it  I  I  did  not  even  know  it  until  all  was  over!  And  I  will 
tell  you  all  about  it,  messieurs,  if  you  will  only  take  these 
dreadful  things  off  my  poor,  little,  small  wrists  and  let  me  go! 
It  is  cruel,  messieurs,  to  fetter  and  imprison  a  poor,  smal] 
little  woman,  for  a  big  man's  crime!  Let  me  go  free,  mes 
sieurs,  and  I  will  tell  you  all  about  him,"  pleaded  this  weeping 
creature,  who  for  the  sake  of  her  own  liberty  was  willing  to  give 
her  lover  up  to  death. 

But  you  need  not  be  surprised  at  this ;  for  I  told  you  long  ago 
that  there  can  be  no  honor,  faith,  or  love  among  thieves,  let  the 
biographers  of  the  Jack  Shepherds  and  Nancy  _Sykeses  say  what 
they  please  to  the  contrary.  "  Do  men  gather  grapes  of  thorns,~ 
or  figs  of  thistles  ?  "  The  criminal  is  the  most  solitary  creature 
upon  earth;  he  has  no  ties — for  the  ties  of  guilt  are  nothing; 
they  snap  at  the  lightest  breath  of  self-interest. 

Faustina's  plea  dismayed  her  accomplice  and  disgusted  her 
captor. 

"  Madam,"  said  the  latter,  "  you  had  better  hold  your  peace 
Your  words  criminate  yourself  as  well  as  Lord  Vincent." 

"  How  do  they  criminate  myself  ?  Oh,  mon  Dieu !  what  shal 
I  do,  since*  even  my  denials  are  made  to  tell  against  me ! "  shf 
whimpered,  wringing  her  hands. 

"  Faustina,  be  silent !  "  said  the  viscount  sternly. 

"  My  lord,  we  are  ready  to  remove  you,"  said  McRae,  advanc 
ing  toward  the  viscount. 

"  Where  do  you  intend  to  take  us  then  ?  "  demanded  the  vis 
count,  with  a  blush  of  shame,  though  with  a  tone  of  defiance. 

"  To  the  police  station  house,  for  the  night.  In  the  morning 
you  will  be  brought  before  the  magistrate  for  examination." 

"  To  your  beast  of  a  station  house  ?  "  said  the  viscount. 

The  policeman  bowed. 

"  Ah,  mon  Dieu !  will  he  take  us  out  into  the  snow  to-night  ? 
I  cannot  go !  I  should  freeze  to  death !  I  should  perish  in  the 
storm !  It  would  be  murder ! "  cried  Faustina,  wringing  her 
hands. 

"You  see  it  would  be  barbarous  to  drag  a  lady  out  in  this 
horrible  weather.  Can  you  not  leave  her  here  for  the  night? 
and  if  you  consider  yourself  responsible  for  her  safe-keeping, 
can  you  not  remain  and  guard  her  ? "  inquired  his  lordship, 
speaking,  however,  quite  as  much,  or  even  more,  for  himself  than 
for  Faustina :  for  he  was  well  aware  that,  if  she  were  left, 
he  would  be  also  left. 


354        SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

"  My  lord,  it  is  impossible.  I  could  not  be  answerable  for  mj 
prisoner's  safety  if  she  were  permitted  to  remain  here  all  night, 
no  matter  how  well  guarded  she  might  be.  It  was  only  a  few 
weeks  ago  that  a  prisoner — a  young  girl  she  was,  charged  with 
poisoning — persuaded  me  to  hold  her  in  custody  through  the 
night  in  her  own  chamber.  I  did  so,  placing  a  policeman  on 
guard  on  the  outside  of  each  door.  And  yet,  during  the  night 
she  succeeded  in  making  her  escape  down  a  secret  staircase  and 
through  a  subterranean  passage,  and  got  clear  off.  It  was  in 
just  such  an  ancient  place  as  this,  my  lord.  I  came  near  losing 
my  office  by  it;  and  I  made  a  resolution  then  never  to  trust 
a  prisoner  of  mine  out  of  my  sight  until  I  got  him  or  her,  as 
the  case  might  be,  safe  under  lock  and  key  in  my  station  house." 

"But,  mon  Dieu!  mon  Dieu!  what  will  become  of  me?" 
wailed  Faustina. 

"It  will  kill  her.    She  is  very  tender,"  urged  Lord  Vincent. 

"Your  lordship  may  order  your  own  close  carriage  for  her 
•use.  She  may  wrap  up  in  all  her  furs.  And  though  she  may 
still  suffer  a  good  deal  from  the  long,  cold  ride,  she  will  not 
freeze,  I  assure  you,"  said  McRae. 

"  Ah,  but  what  do  you  take  me  for  at  all  ?  I  say  that  I  did 
not  kill  the  black  negro  woman ;  Lord  Vincent  did  it." 

"  Madam,  neither  you  nor  my  lord  are  accused  of  murder," 
said  McRae. 

"Ah!  what,  then,  do  you  accuse  us  of?" 

u  You  will  hear  at  the  magistrate's  office,  madam,"  said  the  po 
liceman,  losing  patience. 

"  I  say,  what — whatever  it  was,  Lord  Vincent  did  it !  " 

"  Faustina,  be  silent !  If  no  remnant  of  good  faith  leads 
you  to  spare  me,  spare  yourself  at  least,"  said  the  viscount. 

"  Will  you  order  your  carriage  ? "  said  McRae. 

"  Cuthbert,  go  down  and  have,  the  close  carriage  brought 
around.  Put  the  leopard  skins  inside  and  bottles  of  hot  water," 
ordered  the  viscount. 

"Madam,  you  had  better  summon  your  maid  and  have  your 
•wrappings  brought  to  you,  and  anything  else  you  may  wish  to 
take  with  you,"  advised  McRae. 

"  Oh,  mon  Dieu !  mon  Dieu !  must  I  leave  this  beautiful 
place  to  go  to  a  horrid  prison.  Oh.  mon  Dieu,  mon  Dieu ! " 
wept  Faustina,  wringing  her  hands. 

"  Shall  I  ring  for  your  maid  ?  "  inquired  McRae. 

*  No,  you  monster  1 "  shrieked  Faustina.    "  Do  you  think  I 


AKEEST   OF   LORD    VINCENT   AND   FAUSTINA,       355 

want  Desiree,  whose  ears  I  boxed  this  morning,  to  come  here  to 
see  me  marched  off  to  prison?  She  would  be  glad,  the  beast! 
she  would  laugh  in  her  sleeve,  the  wretch!  Madame  MacDon- 
ald,  will  you  get  my  bonnet  and  sables  ? "  she  said,  turning  to 
her  companion. 

"Yes,  my  dear,  suffering  angel,  I  will  do  all  that  you  wish 
me  to  do.  Ah!  you  remind  me  of  your  countrywoman,  Queen 
Marie  Antoinette,  when  she  was  dragged  from  the  luxurious 
Tuileries  to  the  dreary  temple,"  whined  sympathizing  Compla 
cency. 

"  Good  Heaven !  woman,  do  not  speak  of  her  She  was  guil 
lotined  ! "  cried  Faustina,  with  a  shiver  of  terror. 

"But  you  shall  not  be,  my  dear;  you  shall  come  out  clear; 
and  they  who  have  accused  you  shall  be  made  ashamed,"  said 
Mrs.  MacDonald,  as  she  passed  into  Faustina's  dressing  room. 

Presently  she  came  forth,  bearing  a  quilted  silk  bonnet,  a 
velvet  sack,  a  sable  cloak,  a  muff  and  cuffs,  and  warm  gloves 
and  fur-lined  boots,  and  what  not;  all  of  which  she  helped 
Faustina  to  put  on.  While  she  was  kneeling  on  the  floor  and 
putting  on  the  beauty's  boots  she  said: 

"  I  think  some  of  these  men  might  have  the  modesty  to  turn 
their  backs,  if  they  canna  leave  the  room.  Ah,  my  poor  dear! 
now  you  remind  me  of  my  own  countrywoman,  poor  Queen  Mary 
Stuart,  when  she  complained  on  the  scaffold  of  having  to  un» 
dress  before  so  many  men!  Now  you  have  to  dress  before  so 
many." 

"  Oh,  God,  you  will  be  the  death  of  me,  with  your  guillo 
tined  women !  You  turn  my  flesh  to  jelly,  and  my  bones  to  gris 
tle,  and  my  heart  to  water !  "  cried  Faustina,  with  a  dreadful 
shudder,  as  she  rose  to  her  feet,  quite  ready,  as  far  as  dress 
was  concerned,  for  her  journey. 

"Will  my  poor,  dear,  suffering  angel  have  anything  else  ? " 
said  Mrs.  MacDonald. 

"  Yes.  Oh,  dear,  that  I  should  have  to  leave  this  sweet  place 
for  a  nasty  prison !  Yes,  you  may  get  together  all  that  fruit 
and  nuts  and  cake  and  wine,  and  don't  forget  the  bonbons,  and 
have  them  put  in  the  carriage,  for  I  don't  believe  I  could  get 
such  things  in  the  horrid  prison !  And,  stay — put  me  a  white 
wrapper  and  a  lace  cap  in  my  little  night-bag;  and  stop — put 
that  last  novel  of  Paul  de  Kock  in  also.  I  will  be  as  comfortable 
as  I  can  make  myself  in  that  beast  of  a  place. " 

"Blessed  angel!  what  a  mind  you  have;  what  philosophy; 


356        SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

what  fortitude!  You  now  remind  me  of  your  illustrious  corn* 
patriot,  Madame  Roland,  who,  when  dragged  from  her  elegant 
home  to  the  dreadful  prison  of  the  Conciergerie,  and  knowing 
that  in  a  few  days  she  must  be  dragged  from  that  to  the  scaffold, 
yet  sent  for  her  books,  her  music,  her  birds,  and  her  flowers, 
that  she  might  make  the  most  of  the  time  left,"  said  Mrs.  Mac- 
Donald,  as  she  zealously  gathered  up  the  desired  articles. 

"  Silence !  I  shall  dash  my  brains  out  if  you  speak  to  me  of 
another  headless  woman  1 "  shrieked  Faustina,  stopping  both 
her  ears. 

Old  Cuthbert  put  his  head  in  to  say  that  the  carriage  was 
ready.  Lord  Vincent  ordered  him  to  load  himself  with  the 
luxuries  that  had  been  provided  for  Faustina  and  put  them  into 
the  carriage,  and  then  in  returning  to  fetch  him  his  overshoes, 
cloak,  and  hat.  All  of  these  orders  were  duly  obeyed. 

When  all  was  ready  Lord  Vincent  shook  hands  with  Mrs. 
MacDonald  was  saying: 

"  We  must  all  bow  to  the  law,  madam ;  but  this  is  only  a  pass 
ing  cloud.  We  shall  be  liberated  soon.  And  I  hope  we  shall 
find  you  hare  when  we  return." 

"  Ye  may  be  sure  of  that,  my  lord.  And  may  Heaven  grant 
you  a  speedy  deliverance,"  she  answered. 

Faustina  next  came  up  to  bid  her  good-by. 

"  Good-by !  Good-by !  my  sweet,  suffering  angel.  Bear  up 
Tinder  your  afflictions;  fortify  your  mind  by  thinking  of  the 
martyred  queens  and  heroines  who  have  preceded  you,"  said 
Mrs.  MacDonald,  weeping  as  she  embraced  Faustina. 

"  Good  Heaven,  I  shall  think  of  none  of  them !  I  shall  'think 
only  of  myself  and  my  deliverance ! "  said  Faustina,  breaking 
from  her. 

They  went  downstairs,  marshaled  by  the  policemen.  They 
entered  the  carriage,  two  policemen  riding  inside  with  them, 
and  one  on  the  box  beside  the  coachman.  And  thus  they  com* 
menced  their  stormy  night  journey. 


A  BITTER   NIGHT.  35V 

CHAPTER  XUL 

A  BITTER  NIGHT. 

St.  Agnes'  Eve— ah,  bitter  chill  it  uras! 

The  owl,  for  all  his  feathers,  was  acold, 
The  hare  limped  trembling  thro'  the  frozen  grass; 

And  silent  was  the  Hock  in  woolly  fold! 

— Keata. 

A  freezing  night.    Faustina  shook  as  with  an  ague-fit,  and 

her  teeth  chattered  like  a  pair  of  castanets,  as  she  crouched  down 

in  one  corner  of  the  back  seat  and  huddled  all  her  wrappings 

"lose  about  her.    But  the  cold  still  seemed  to  penetrate  through 

11  her  furs  and  velvets  and  woolens  and  enter  the  very  marrow 

f  her  bones. 

Beside  her  sat  the  viscount,  silent,  grim,  and  still,  as  though 
he  were  congealed  to  ice.  Before  her  sat  the  two  policemen, 
well  wrapped  up  in  their  greatcoats  and  thick  shawls. 

All  were  silent  except  Faustina.  She  shook  and  moaned  and 
chattered  incessantly.  Such  a  mere  animal  was  this  wretched 
woman  that  she  was  quite  absorbed  in  her  present  sufferings. 
While  enduring  this  intense  cold  she  could  not  look  forward  to 
the  terrors  of  the  future. 

"  It's  insufferable !  "  she  exclaimed,  fiercely  stamping  her  feet ; 
"  can  you  not  make  this  beast  of  a  carriage  closer,  then  ?  My 
flesh  is  stone  and  my  blood  is  ice,  I  tell  you." 

One  window  had  been  left  open  a  little  way,  to  let  a  breath 
of  air  into  the  carriage,  which,  crowded  with  four  persons,  was 
otherwise  stifling.  But  the  viscount  now  raised  both  his  fet 
tered  hands  and  closed  up  the  window.  The  arrangement  did 
not  prove  satisfactory.  It  deprived  the  sufferers  of  air  without 
making  them  any  warmer.  Faustina  shook  and  moaned  and 
chattered  all  the  same. 

"  Oh,  wretches !  "  she  exclaimed,  in  furious  disgust ;  "  open 
the  window  again!  I  am  suffocated!  I  am  poisoned!  They 
have  all  been  eating  garlic  and  drinking  whisky ! " 

The  window  was  opened  at  her  desire,  but  as  they  were  then 
crossing  the  narrow  isthmus  of  rock  that  connected  the  castle 
steep  with  the  land,  the  wind,  from  that  exposed  position,  was 
cutting  sharp,  and  drove  into  the  aperture  the  stinging  snow, 
which  entered  the  skin  like  needle  points. 


358        SELF-KAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

"  Ah,  shut  it !  shut  it !  It  kills  me !  It  is  infamous  tc  treat 
a  poor  little  lady  so ! "  she  cried,  bursting  into  tears. 

Again  the  window  was  closed ;  but  not  for  any  length  of  time. 
Apparently  she  could  neither  bear  it  open  nor  shut.  So,  shak 
ing,  moaning,  and  complaining,  the  poor  creature  was  taken 
through  that  long  and  bitter  night  journey  which  ended  at  last 
only  at  the  station  house  of  Banff. 

Half  dead  with  cold,  she  was  lifted  out  of  the  carriage  by  the 
two  policemen  who  stood  upon  the  sidewalk,  where  she  remained, 
shaking,  chattering,  and  weeping  tears  that  froze  upon  her 
cheeks  as  they  fell. 

She  could  see  nothing  in  that  dark  street  but  the  gloomy 
building  before  her,  dimly  lighted  by  its  iron  lamp  above  the 
doorway. 

There  she  remained  till  the  viscount  was  handed  out. 

"  Cuthbert,"  said  his  lordship  to  the  old  man,  who  had  exposed 
himself  to  the  severe  weather  of  this  night  and  driven  the  car 
riage  for  the  sake  of  being  near  his  master  as  long  as  possible, 
"  Cuthbert,  take  the  carriage  around  to  the  '  Highlander '  and 
put  up  there  for  the  night.  We  shall  want  it  to  take  us  back 
to  the  castle  to-morrow,  after  this  ridiculous  farce  is  over." 

"  Verra  weel,  me  laird,"  replied  old  Cuthbert,  touching  his 
hat  with  all  the  more  deference  because  his  master  was  suffer 
ing  degradation. 

"  Ah !  is  it  so  ?  Will  we  really  get  back  to  the  castle  to-mor 
row  ? "  whimpered  Faustina,  shaking,  chattering,  and  wringing 
her  hands. 

"  Of  course  we  will,"  replied  his  lordship. 

"Ah,  but  how  shall  I  get  through  the  night?  I  must  have  a 
good  fire  and  a  comfortable  bed,  and  something  warm  to  drink. 
Will  you  see  to  it,  Malcolm  ?  "  she  whiningly  inquired. 

"  Don't  be  a  fool ! "  was  the  gentlemanly  reply ;  for  the  vis 
count  burned  with  half-suppressed  rage  against  the  woman 
whose  fatal  beauty  had  led  him  into  all  this  disgrace. 

She  burst  into  a  passion  of  tears. 

"  That  is  the  reward  I  get  for  all  my  love !  "  she  exclaimed. 

"  Faustina,  for  your  own  sake,  if  not  for  any  other's,  exer 
cise  some  discretion !  "  exclaimed  the  viscount  angrily. 

"  Villain !  "  she  screamed,  in  fury,  "  I  had  no  discretion  when 
I  listened  to  you ! " 

'•  I  wish  to  Heaven  you  had  had  th«n !  I  should  not  have  been 
in  this  mess,"  he  replied. 


A   BITTER    NIGHT.  359 

**  Ah !  "  she  hissed.  "  If  my  hands  were  not  fettered  I  would 
tear  your  eyes !  " 

"  Sweet  angel ! "  sneered  the  viscount,  in  mockery  and  self- 
mockery. 

"  Thsche !  "  she  hissed,  "  let  me  at  him !  " 

The  viscount  laughed,  a  hard,  bitter,  scornful  laugh. 

And  at  it  they  went,  criminating  and  recriminating,  until 
the  empty  carriage  was  driven  away,  and  the  policemen  took 
them  by  the  shoulders  and  pushed  them  into  the  station  he-use. 

They  found  themselves  in  a  large  stone  hall,  with  iron-grated 
windows.  It  was  partially  warmed  with  a  large,  rusty  stove, 
around  which  many  men  of  the  roughest  cast  were  gathered, 
smoking,  talking,  and  laughing.  The  walls  were  furnished  with 
rude  benches,  upon  which  some  men  sat,  some  reclined,  and 
some  lay  at  full  length.  The  stone  floor  was  wet  with  the  slop 
of  the  snow  that  had  been  brought  in  by  so  many  feet  and  had 
melted.  In  one  of  these  slops  lay  a  woman,  dead  drunk. 

"Ah!  Good  God!  I  cannot  stay  here!"  cried  Faustina, 
gathering  up  her  skirts,  as  well  as  she  could  with  her  fettered 
hands,  and  looking  around  in  strong  disgust. 

The  viscount  laughed  in  derision;  he  was  angry,  desperate, 
and  he  rejoiced  in  her  discomfiture. 

"  Eh,  Saunders !  take  these  two  women  in  the  women's 
room,"  said  McRae,  beckoning  a  tall,  broad-shouldered,  red 
headed  Scot  to  his  assistance. 

"  Hech !  it  will  take  twa  o'  the  strongest  men  here  to  lift  yon 
lassie,"  replied  the  man,  lumbering  slowly  along  towards  the 
prostrate  woman,  and  trying  to  raise  her.  If  he  failed  in  lift 
ing  her,  he  succeeded  in  waking  her,  and  he  was  saluted  for  his 
pains  with  a  volley  of  curses,  to  which  he  replied  with  a  shake 
or  two. 

"  Oh,  horror !  I  will  not  stay  here !  "  cried  Faustina,  stamp 
ing  with  rage. 

"  Attend  to  her,  Christie.  Dunlap,  help  Saunders  to  remove 
that  woman,"  said  McRae. 

Two  of  the  policemen  succeeded  in  raising  the  fallen  woman, 
and  leading  her  between  them  into  an  adjoining  room.  The 
man  addressed  as  "  Christie  "  would  have  taken  Faustina  by  the 
arm,  and  led  her  after  them,  but  that  she  fiercely  shook  herself 
from  his  grasp. 

"  Follow  then  and  ye  like,  lass ;  but  gae  some  gait  ye  maun, 
ye  ken,"  said  the  man  good-naturedly. 


360         SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

She  glanced  around  the  dreary  room,  upon  the  grated  win 
dows,  the  sloppy  floor,  the  rusty  stove,  and  the  wretched  men, 
and  finally  seemed  to  think  that  she  could  not  do  better  than 
to  leave  such  a  repulsive  scene. 

"  Go  along,  then,  and  I  will  follow,  only  keep  your  vile  hands 
off  me,"  said  Faustina,  gathering  up  her  dainty  raiment  and 
stepp'yig  carefully  after  her  leader.  As  she  did  so  she  turned 
a  last  look  upon  Lord  Vincent.  The  viscount  had  thrown  him 
self  upon  a  corner  of  one  of  the  benches,  where  he  sat,  with  his 
fettered  hands  folded  together,  and  his  head  bent  down  upon  his 
breast,  as  if  he  were  in  deep  despair. 

"  Imbecile !  "  was  the  complimentary  good-night  thrown  by 
his  angel,  as  she  passed  out  of  the  hall  into  the  adjoining  room. 
This — the  women's  room — was  in  all  respects  similar  to  the 
men's  hall,  being  furnished  with  the  like  grated  windows,  rusty 
iron  stove,  and  rude  benches.  Along,  on  these  benches,  or  on 
the  floor,  were  scattered  wretched  women  in  every  attitude  of 
self-abandonment;  some  in  the  stupor  of  intoxication;  some 
in  the  depths  of  sorrow;  some  in  stony  despair;  some  in  reck 
less  defiance. 

The  men  who  had  come  in  with  the  drunken  woman  de 
posited  her  on  one  of  the  benches,  from  which  she  quickly 
rolled  GO  the  floor,  where  she  lay  dead  to  all  that  was  passing 
around  her.  Her  misfortune  was  greeted  with  a  shout  of 
laughter  from  the  reckless  denizens  of  this  room;  but  that  shout 
was  turned  into  a  deafening  yell  when  their  eyes  fell  upon 
Faustina's  array. 

"Eh,  sirs!  wha  the  deil  hae  we  here  fra  the  ball?"  they 
cried,  gathering  around  her  with  curiosity. 

u  Off,  you  wretches !  "  screamed  Faustina,  stamping  at  them. 

"Hech!  but  she  hae  a  temper  o'  her  ain,  the  juean,"  said 
one. 

"  Ou,  aye,  just !  It  will  be  for  sticking  her  lad  under  the  ribs 
she  is  here,"  surmised  another. 

"Eh,  sirs,  how  are  the  mighty  fa'en!"  exclaimed  a  third,  as 
they  closed  around  her,  and  began  to  closely  examine  her  rich 
dress. 

"  Rabble !  how  dare  you  ? "  screamed  Faustina,  fiercely  twitch 
ing  herself  away  from  them. 

"Eh!  the  braw  furs  and  silks!  the  town  doesna  often  see 
the  loike  o'  them,"  said  the  first  speaker,  lifting  up  the  corner 
of  the  rich  sable  cloak. 


A   BITTER   NIGHT,  361 

*  Wretch,  let  alone !  "  shrieked  Faustina,  Stamping  f  ran* 
tically. 

The  uproar  brought  Policeman  Christie  to  the  scene. 

"  Take  me  away  from  this  place  directly,  you  beast !  How 
dare  you  bring  me  among  such  wretches  ? "  screamed  the  poor 
creature. 

"  My  lass,  I  hae  na  commission  to  remove  you.  I  dinna  ken 
what  ye  hae  done  to  bring  yoursel'  here;  but  here  ye  maun 
bide  till  the  morn,"  said  Christie  kindly  and  composedly. 

"I  will  not,  I  say!  What  have  I  done  to  be  placed  among 
these  vile  wretches  ? "  she  persisted,  stamping. 

"  I  dinna  ken,  lassie,  as  I  telled  ye  before ;  but  joodging  by 
your  manners,  I  suld  say  ye  hae  guided  yoursel'  an  unco'  ill 
gait.  But  howe'er  that  will  be,  here  ye  maun  bide  till  the  morn. 
And  gin  ye  will  heed  guid  counsel,  ye'll  haud  your  tongue," 
said  Christie,  at  the  same  time  good-naturedly  setting  down  the 
hamper  that  contained  Faustina's  luxuries.  She  did  not  want 
it.  She  threw  herself  down  upon  one  of  the  benches  and  burst 
into  a  passion  of  tears. 

The  women  gathered  around  the  hamper,  and  quickly  tore 
off  the  lid  and  made  themselves  acquainted  with  its  contents. 

But  Faustina  did  not  mind.  She  was  too  deeply  distressed 
to  care  what  they  did.  The  contents  of  the  hamper  were  now  of 
no  use  to  her.  The  "good  fire,  the  comfortable  bed,  the  warm 
beverage "  that  she  had  vehemently  demanded  were  unattain 
able,  she  knew,  and  she  cared  for  nothing  else  now. 

While  Faustina,  regardless  that  her  famished  fellow-pris 
oners  were  devouring  her  cakes,  fruits,  and  wine,  gave  herself 
up  to  passionate  lamentations,  another  scene  was  going  on  in 
the  men's  hall. 

Lord  Vincent  sat  gnawing  his  nails  and  "glowering"  upon 
the  floor  in  his  corner.  From  time  to  time  the  door  opened, 
letting  in  a  gust  of  wind,  sleet,  and  snow,  and  a  new  party 
of  prisoners;  but  the  viscount  never  lifted  his  eyes  to  observe 
them. 

At  length,  however,  he  looked  up  and  beckoned  Constable 
McRae  to  his  side. 

"  Here,  you,  fellow !  I  would  like  to  see  your  warrant  again, 
I  wish  to  know  who  is  my  accuser." 

"Judge  Randolph  Merlin,  my  lord,  of  the  United  States 
Supreme  Court,"  answered  McRae,  once  more  taking  out  his 
warrant  and  submitting  it  to  the  inspection  of  his  prisoner, 


362         SELF-RAISED;  on,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

"  Ha,  ha,  ha !  "  laughed  the  viscount  affectedly.  "  Randolph 
Merlin!  He  has  come  to  the  country,  I  suppose,  to  look  after 
his  daughter ;  and  finding  that  these  negroes  are  among  the  miss 
ing,  has  pretended  to  get  up  this  charge  against  me !  It  will 
not  answer  his  purpose,  however.  And  I  only  wonder  that  any 
magistrate  in  his  senses  should  have  issued  a  warrant  for  th. 
apprehension  of  a  nobleman  upon  his  unsupported  charge." 

"Pray  excuse  me,  my  lord,  but  the  charge  was  not  unsr  • 
ported,"  said  McRae  respectfully. 

"  How — not  unsupported  ?  " 

"No,  my  lord.  The  judge  had  for  witnesses  the  three 
negroes,  and " 

"  The  three  negroes ! "  exclaimed  the  viscount,  recoiling  in 
amazement;  but  quickly  recovering  his  presence  of  mind,  he 
added :  "  Oh !  aye !  of  course !  they  ran  off  with  my  plate,  and 
I  suppose  they  have  succeeded  in  effectually  secreting  it  and 
eluding  discovery.  And  now  I  suspect  they  have  been  looked 
up  by  their  old  master  and  persuaded  to  appear  as  false  wit 
nesses  against  me.  Ha,  ha,  ha!  what  a  weak  device!  I  am 
amazed  that  any  magistrate  should  have  ventured  upon  such 
testimony  to  have  issued  a  warrant  for  my  apprehension." 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  my  lord;  but  theirs  was  not  the  only 
testimony.  There  were  several  gentlemen  present,  fellow-voy 
agers  of  Judge  Merlin,  who  testified  to  the  finding  of  the  negroes 
in  a  state  of  slavery  in  Cuba;  their  testimony  corroborates 
that  of  the  negroes,"  said  McEae. 

Lord  Vincent  went  pale  as  death. 

"  What  does  that  mean ?  Oh,  I  see!  it  is  all  a  conspiracy,"  he 
said,  with  an  ineffectual  effort  at  derision. 

But  at  that  moment  there  was  a  bustle  outside ;  the  dcor  was 
thrown  open,  and  another  prisoner  was  brought  in  by  two  po 
licemen. 

"  What  is  the  matter  ?  Who  is  it  now  ? "  inquired  McRae, 
going  forward. 

"  We  have  got  him,  sir,"  said  a  constable. 

"Who?"  demanded  McRae. 

"  The  murderer,  sir ! "  answered  the  policeman,  at  the  same 
moment  dragging  into  view  the  assassin  of  Ailsie  Dunbar,  the 
ex-valet  of  Lord  Vincent,  Alick  Frisbie. 

Heavily  fettered,  his  knees  knocking  together,  pale  and  trem 
bling,  the  wretch  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  floor. 

"Where  did  you  take  him?"  inquired  McRae. 


A   BITTER   NIGHT.  363 

"At  the  'Bagpipes/  Peterhead,"  replied  the  successful  captor. 

"  Pray,  upon  what  charge  is  he  arrested  ? "  inquired  the  vis 
count,  in  a  shaking  voice,  that  he  tried  in  vain  to  make  steady. 

"A  trifle  of  murder,  among  other  fancy  performances," 
Baid  McRae. 

At  this  moment  Frisbie  caught  sight  of  his  master  and  set 
ap  a  howl,  through  which  his  words  were  barely  audible: 

"  Oh,  my  lord,  you  will  never  betray  me !  You  will  never  be 
a  witness  against  me !  You  will  never  hang  me !  You  promised 
that  you  would  not ! " 

"Hold  your  tongue,  you  abominable  fool!  What  the  fiend 
are  you  talking  about?  Do  you  forget  yourself,  sir?"  roared 
the  viscount,  furious  at  the  fatal  folly  of  his  weak  accomplice. 

"  Oh,  no,  my  lord,  I  do  not  forget  myself !  I  do  not  forget 
anything.  I  beg  your  lordship's  pardon  for  speaking,  and  I 
will  swear  to  be  as  silent  as  the  grave,  if  your  lordship  will  only 
promise  not  to " 

"  Will  you  stop  ehort  where  you  are,  and  not  open  your  mouth 
again,  you  insufferable  idiot ! "  thundered  the  viscount. 

Frisbie  gulped  his  last  words,  whined  and  crouched  like  a 
whipped  hound,  and  subsided  into  silence. 

And  soon  after  this  McRae  and  the  other  officers  who  were 
off  duty  for  the  remainder  of  the  night  went  home  and  the  doors 
were  closed. 

A  miserable  night  it  was  to  all  within  the  station  house,  and 
especially  to  that  guilty  man  and  woman  who  had  been  torn 
from  their  luxurious  home  and  confined  in  this  dreary  prison. 
All  that  could  revolt,  disgust,  and  utterly  depress  human  na 
ture  seemed  gathered  within  its  walls.  Here  were  drunkenness, 
deadly  sickness,  and  reckless  and  shameless  profanity,  all  of 
the  most  loathsome  character.  And  all  this  was  excruciating 
torture  to  a  man  like  Lord  Vincent,  who,  if  he  was  not  refined, 
was  at  least  excessively  fastidious.  There  was  no  rest;  every 
few  minutes  the  door  was  opened  to  receive  some  new  prisoner, 
some  inebriate,  or  some  night-brawler  picked  up  by  the  watch, 
and  brought  in,  and  then  would  ensue  another  scene  of  confu 
sion. 

An  endless  night  it  seemed,  yet  it  came  to  an  end  at  last. 
The  morning  slowly  dawned.  The  pale,  cold,  gray  light  of 
tho  winter  day  looked  sadly  through  the  falling  snow  into  the 
closely-grated,  dusty  windows.  And  upon  what  a  scene  it 
looked.  Hen  were  there,  scattered  over  the  floor  and  upon  the 


364  SELF-RAISED  '   OR,    FROM  THE   DEPTHS. 

benches  in  every  stage  of  intoxication;  some  stupid,  some  reck 
less,  some  despairing;  some  sound  asleep;  some  waking  up  and 
yawning,  and  some  walking  about  impatiently. 

As  tbe  day  broadened  and  the  hour  arrived  for  the  sitting 
of  the  police  magistrate,  the  policemen  came  in  and  marched 
off  the  crowd  of  culprits  to  a  hall  in  another  part  of  the  build 
ing,  where  they  were  to  be  examined.  Even  the  women  were 
marched  out  from  the  inner  room  after  the  men.  It  seemed 
that  all  the  lighter  offenders  were  to  be  disposed  of  first. 

Lord  Vincent  and  Frisbie  were  left  alone  in  charge  of  one 
officer. 

"When  are  we  to  be  examined?"  demanded  the  viscount 
haughtily  of  this  man. 

"  I  dinna  ken,"  he  answered,  composedly  lighting  his  pipe  and 
smoking  away. 

Lord  Vincent  paced  up  and  down  the  wet  and  dirty  stone 
floor,  until  at  length  the  door  opened  and  McRae,  the  officer 
who  arrested  him,  entered. 

"  Ah,  you  have  come  at  last.  I  wish  to  be  informed  why  we 
have  been  left  here  all  this  time?  Everyone  else  has  been  re 
moved,"  exclaimed  the  viscount. 

"My  lord,  those  poor  creatures  who  were  brought  here  dur 
ing  the  night  were  not  arrested  for  any  grave  offense.  Some 
were  brought  in  only  to  keep  them  from  perishing  in  the  snow 
storm,  and  others  for  drunkenness  or  disorder.  The  sitting 
police  magistrate  disposes  of  them.  They  will  mostly  be  dis 
charged.  But  you,  my  lord,  are  here  upon  a  heavy  charge,  and 
you  are  to  go  before  Sir  Alexander  McKetchum." 

"  Why,  then,  do  you  not  conduct  me  there  ?  Do  you  mean  to 
keep  me  in  this  beastly  place  all  day  ? " 

"  My  lord,  your  examination  is  fixed  for  ten  o'clock ;  it  is  only 
nine  now,"  said  McRae,  passing  on  to  the  inner  room,  from 
which  he  presently  appeared  with  Faustina. 

Wretched  did  the  poor  creature  look  with  her  pale  and  tear- 
stained  face,  her  reddened  eyes  and  disheveled  hair;  and  her 
rich  and  elegant  white  evening  dress  with  its  ample  skirts  and 
lace  flounces  bedraggled  and  bedabbled  with  all  the  filth  of  the 
station  house. 

"  I  have  had  a  horrid  night !  I  have  been  in  worse  than  pur 
gatory.  I  have  not  closed  my  eyes.  I  wish  I  was  dead.  See 
what  you  have  brought  me  to,  Malcolm!  And — only  look  at 
my  dress ! "  sobbed  the  woman. 


A   BITTER   NIGHT.  365 

*'  Tour  dress !  That  is  just  exactly  what  I  am  looking  at.  A 
pretty  dress  that  to  be  seen  in.  What  the  demon  do  you  think 
people  will  take  you  for  ? "  sneered  his  lordship. 

"I  do  not  knowl  I  do  not  care!  poor  trampled  lily  that  I 
am!" 

"Poor  trampled  fool!  Why  didn't  you  change  that  Merry 
Andrew  costume  for  something  plainer  and  decenter  before  you 
left  the  castle?" 

"  Why  didn't  you  tell  me  to  do  it,  then  ?  I  never  thought  of 
it.  Besides,  I  didn't  know  what  this  beast  of  a  station  house 
was  like.  No  carpets,  no  beds,  no  servants.  And  I'm  dying 
for  want  of  them  all.  And  now  I  must  have  my  breakfast. 
Why  don't  you  order  it,  Malcolm  ? "  she  whimpered. 

"  I  am  afraid  they  do  not  provide  breakfasts  any  more  than 
they  do  other  luxuries  for  the  guests  of  this  establishment," 
replied  the  viscount,  with  a  malignant  laugh. 

"  But  I  shall  starve,  then,"  said  the  poor  little  animal,  burst 
ing  into  tears. 

"I  cannot  help  it,"  replied  the  viscount,  very  much  in  the 
same  tone  as  if  he  had  said :  "  I  do  not  care." 

But  here  McRae  spoke: 

"  My  lord,  there  is  nearly  an  hour  left  before  we  shall  go  be 
fore  the  magistrate.  If  you  wish,  therefore,  you  can  send  out  to 
some  hotel  and  order  your  breakfast  brought  to  you  here." 

"  Thank  you ;  I  will  avail  myself  of  your  suggestion.  Whom 
can  I  send  ? "  inquired  the  viscount. 

"  Christie,  you  can  go  for  his  lordship,"  said  McRae  to  his 
subordinate,  who  had  just  entered  the  hall. 

Christie  came  forward  to  take  the  order. 

"What  will  you  have?"  inquired  Lord  Vincent,  curtly  ad 
dressing  his  "  sweet  angel." 

"  Oh,  some  strong  coffee  with  cream,  hot  rolls  with  fresh  but 
ter,  and  broiled  moor  hen  with  currant  jelly,"  replied  Faustina. 

Lord  Vincent  wrote  his  order  down  with  a  pencil  on  a  leaf 
of  his  tablets,  tore  it  out  and  gave  it  to  Christie,  saying: 

u  Take  this  to  the  '  Highlander '  and  tell  them  to  send  the 
"breakfast  immediately.  Also  inquire  for  my  servant,  Cuth- 
bert  Allan,  who  is  stopping  there,  and  order  him  to  put  my 
horses  to  the  carriage  and  bring  them  around  here  for  my  use." 

The  man  bowed  civilly  and  went  out  to  do  this  errand. 

In  about  half  an  hour  he  returned,  accompanied  by  a  waiter 
/rom  the  "  Highlander,"  bringing  the  breakfast  piled  up  on  « 


366        SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

large  tray,  unfolded  the  cloth  and  spread  it  upon  one  of  the 
benches  and  arranged  the  breakfast  upon  it. 

"  Did  you  see  my  servant  ? "  inquired  Lord  Vincent  of  his 
messenger. 

"  Yes,  me  laird,  and  gi'e  him  your  order.  The  carriage  will 
be  round,"  replied  the  man. 

As  the  viscount  and  his  companion  drew  their  bench  up  to 
the  other  bench  upon  which  their  morning  meal  was  laid,  Mr. 
Frisbie,  who  had  been  sitting  in  a  remote  corner  of  the  hall 
with  his  head  buried  on  his  knees,  got  up  and  humbly  stood 
before  them,  as  if  silently  offering  his  services  to  wait  at  table. 

"  He  here!  "  exclaimed  Faustina,  in  amazement. 

u  Yes,  he  is  in  the  same  boat  with  us.  Go  sit  down,  Frisbie ; 
we  don't  need  you,"  said  Lord  Vincent.  And  the  ex-valet  re 
tired  and  crouched  in  his  corner  like  a  repulsed  dog. 

Trouble  did  not  take  away  the  appetite  of  Mrs.  Dugald.  It 
does  not  ever  have  that  effect  upon  constitutions  in  which  the 
animal  nature  largely  preponderates.  She  ate,  drank,  and  wept, 
and  so  got  through  a  very  hearty  repast.  Lord  Vincent,  having 
swallowed  a  single  cup  of  coffee,  which  constituted  the  whole  of 
his  breakfast,  sat  and  watched  her  performances  with  uncon 
cealed  scorn. 

Before  Faustina  got  through  Officer  McRae  began  impatiently 
to  consult  his  large  silver  turnip. 

"  It  is  time  to  go,"  he  said  at  length. 

But  Faustina  continued  to  suck  the  bones  of  the  moor  hen, 
between  her  trickling  tears. 

"  We  must  not  keep  the  magistrate  waiting,"  said  McRae. 

But  Faustina  continued  to  suck  and  cry. 

"I  am  sorry  to  hurry  you,  madam;  but  we  must  go,"  said 
McRae  decisively. 

"Ah,  bah!  what  a  beastly  place!  where  a  poor  litDle  lady 
is  not  permitted  to  eat  her  breakfast  in  peace ! "  she  exclaimed, 
throwing  down  the  delicate  bone  at  which  she  had  been  nibbling, 
and  fiercely  starting  up. 

As  she  had  not  removed  her  bonnet  and  cloak  during  the 
whole  night  she  was  quite  ready. 

As  they  were  going  out  Lord  Vincent  pointed  to  Frisbie  and 
inquired : 

"  Is  not  that  fellow  to  go? " 

"N"o;  he  is  in  upon  a  heavier  charge,  you  know,  my  lord. 
Your  examination  precedes  his,"  said  McB&s,  as  he  conducted 


367 

his  prisoners  into  the  street,  leaving  Mr.  Frisbie  to  solace  him 
self  with  the  remnants  of  Faustina's  breakfast,  guarded  by 
Christie. 

The  viscount's  carriage  was  drawn  up  before  the  door. 

"Is  it  hame,  me  laird?"  inquired  old  Cuthbert,  touching  hia 
bat,  from  the  coachman's  box. 

"  No.  You  are  to  take  your  directions  from  this  person," 
replied  his  lordship  sullenly,  as  he  hurried  into  the  carriage  to 
conceal  himself  and  his  fettered  wrists  from  the  passers-by. 

McRae  put  Mrs.  Dugald  into  the  carriage,  and  then  jumped  up 
and  seated  himself  on  the  box  beside  the  coachman,  and  di 
rected  him  where  to  drive. 

The  snow  was  still  falling  fast,  and  the  streets  were  nearly 
blocked  up. 

CHAPTER  XLIIL 

FRUITS  OP  CRIME. 

Ay,  think  upon  the  cause — 
Forget  it  not:  when  yon  lie  down  to  rest, 
Let  it  be  black  among  your  dreams;  and  when 
The  morn  returns,  so  let  it  stand  between 
The  sun  and  you,  as  an  ill-omened  cloud, 

Upon  a  summer's  day  of  festival. 

— Byron. 

After  a  drive  of  about  twenty  minutes  through  the  narrow 
streets  the  carriage  stopped  before  the  town  hall.  McRae 
jumped  down  from  the  box  and  assisted  his  prisoners  to  alight 

"Will  I  wait,  me  laird?"  inquired  old  Cuthbert,  in  a  de 
sponding  tone. 

"  Certainly,  you  old  blockhead ! "  was  the  courteous  reply  of 
the  viscount,  as  he  followed  his  conductor  into  the  building. 

McRae,  who  had  Mrs.  Zhigald  on  his  arm,  led  the  way  through 
a  broad  stone  passage,  blocked  up  with  the  usual  motley  crowd 
of  such  a  place,  into  an  anteroom,  half  filled  with  prisoners, 
guarded  by  policemen,  and  waiting  their  turn  for  examination, 
and  thence  into  an  inner  room,  where,  in  a  railed-off  compart 
ment  at  the  upper  end,  and  behind  a  long  table,  sat  the  magis 
trate,  Sir  Alexander  McKetchum,  and  his  clerk,  attended  by 
several  law  officers. 

"Here  are  the  prisoners,  your  worship,"  said  McRae,  ad* 
rancing  with  his  charge  to  the  front  of  the  table. 


368        SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS, 

Sir  Alexander  looked  up.  He  was  a  tall,  raw-boned,  sinewj 
old  Gael,  with  high  features,  a  lively,  red  face,  blue  eyes,  white 
hair  and  side  whiskers,  and  an  accent  as  broad  as  Cuthbert'a 
own.  He  was  apparently  a  man  of  the  people. 

"  Malcolm,  lad,  I  am  verra  sorry  to  see  your  father's  son  here 
on  such  a  charge,"  he  said. 

"  I  am  here  by  your  warrant,  sir  I  it  is  altogether  a  very  ex 
traordinary  proceeding! "  said  the  viscount  haughtily. 

"  Not  mare  extraordinary  than  painful,  lad,"  said  the  magis 
trate. 

"  Who  are  my  accusers,  sir  ?  "  demanded  the  viscount,  as  if 
lie  was  in  ignorance  of  them. 

u  Ye  sail  sune  see,  me  laird.  Joihnstone,  have  the  witnesses 
in  this  case  arrived  ? "  he  inquired,  turning  to  one  of  his  officers, 

u  Yes,  your  worship." 

"  Then  bring  them  in." 

Johnstone  departed  upon  his  errand;  and  the  magistrate 
turned  his  eyes  upon  the  prisoners  before  him. 

u  Eh,  it  is  a  bonnie  lassie,  to  be  here  on  such  a  charge,"  he 
muttered  to  himself,  as  he  looked  at  Faustina,  standing,  trem 
bling  and  weeping,  before  him.  Then  beckoning  the  officer 
who  had  the  prisoners  in  charge: 

"McRae,  mon,  accommodate  the  lady  with  a  chair.  Why 
did  ye  put  fetters  on  her?  Surely  there  was  no  need  of  them." 

"  There  was  need,  your  worship.  The  '  lady '  resisted  the 
warrant,  and  fought  like  a  Bess  o*  Bedlam,"  said  McRae,  as  he 
set  a  chair  for  Faustina. 

"  Puir  bairn  I  puir,  ill-guided  bairn ! "  muttered  the  old  man 
between  his  teeth.  But  before  he  could  utter  another  word 
Johnstone  re-entered  the  room,  ushering  in  Judge  Merlin,  Ish- 
mael  Worth,  and  the  three  negroes. 

"  Good  Heaven ! "  exclaimed  Faustina,  in  horror,  as  her  eyes 
met  those  of  Katie ;  "  it  is  the  ghost  of  the  black  negro  woman 
raised  from  the  dead  1 " 

Katie  heard  this  low  exclamation,  and  replied  to  it  by  such 
•grotesque  and  awful  grimaces  as  only  the  face  of  the  African 
negro  is  capable  of  executing. 

"  No,  it  is  herself.  There  are  no  such  things  as  ghosts.  It 
is  herself,  and  I  have  been  deceived,"  muttered  Faustina  to 
herself.  And  then  she  fell  into  silence. 

Perhaps  Lord  Vincent  had  not  altogether  credited  McRae's 
statement,  made  to  him  at  the  station  house,  for  certainly  Mf 


FRUITS   OF   CRIME.  369 

eyes  opened  with  consternation  on  seeing  this  party  enter  the 
room, 

Johnstoane  marshaled  them  to  their  appointed  places  on  the 
right  hand  of  the  magistrate. 

On  turning  around  Ishmael  met  full  the  eyes  of  the  viscount. 
Ishmael  gravely  bowed  and  averted  his  head.  He  could  not  be 
otherwise  than  courteous  under  any  circumstances;  and  he 
could  not  bear  to  look  upon  a  fellowman  in  his  degradation, 
no  matter  how  well  that  degradation  was  deserved. 

Judge  Merlin  also  bowed,  as  he  looked  upon  his  worthless 
son-in-law ;  but  the  judge's  bow  was  full  of  irony  as  his  face  was 
full  of  scorn. 

The  magistrate  looked  up  from  the  document  he  was  read- 
Ing  and  acknowledged  the  presence  of  the  new  arrivals  with 
a  bow.  Then  turning  to  the  prisoner  he  said: 

"  Malcolm,  lad,  this  is  an  unco  ill-looking  accusation  they 
hae  brought  against  you;  kidnaping  and  slave-trading,  na  less 
— a  sort  of  piracy,  ye  ken,  lad  1  What  hae  ye  to  say  till  it  ? " 

"  What  have  I  to  say  to  it,  sir  ?  Why,  simply  that  it  has  taken 
me  so  by  surprise  that  I  can  find  nothing  to  say  but  that  I  am 
astounded  at  the  effronteiy  of  any  man  who  could  bring  such 
a  charge  against  me,  and  at  the  fatuity,  if  you  will  excuse  my 
terming  it  so,  of  any  magistrate  who  could  issue  a  warrant 
against  me  upon  such  a  charge,"  said  the  viscount  haughtily. 

"  Nay,  nay,  lad  1  nay,  nay  I  I  had  guid  grounds  for  what  I 
did,  as  ye  shall  hear  presently,  and  noo,  gen  ye  hae  na  objection, 
we  will  proceed  wi'  the  investigation " 

"  But  I  have  an  objection,  sir !  I  tell  you  this  has  taken  me 
utterly  by  surprise.  I  am  totally  unprepared  for  it.  I  must 
have  time,  I  must  have  counsel,"  said  the  viscount  with  much 
heat. 

"  Then  I  maun  remand  ye  for  another  examination,"  replied 
Sir  Alexander  McKetchum  coolly. 

"  But  I  object  to  that,  also.  I  object  to  be  kept  in  confine 
ment  while  there  is  nothing  proved  against  me,  and  I  demand 
my  liberty,"  said  the  viscount  insolently. 

"Why  dinna  ye  demaund  the  moon  and  stars,  laddie?  J 
eould  gi'e  them  to  ye  just  as  sune,"  replied  Sir  Alexander. 

"  You  have  no  right  to  detain  me  in  custody  I "  fiercely  broke 
forth  Lord  Vincent. 

"  Whisht,  lad,  I  hae  no  richt  to  set  you  at  leeberty." 

Here  old  Katie,  whose  eyes  had  been  snapping  whole  volleve 


370  SELF-RAISED,    OR,    FROM   THE    DEPTHS 

of  vindictive  fire  upon  the  prisoners,  broke  out  into  words  be 
fore  Judge  Merlin  or  Ishmael  could  possibly  prevent  her. 

"  Don't  you  let  him  go,  ole  marse !  he's  one  nasty,  'ceitf ul, 
lyin',  white  nigger  as  ebber  libbedl  He  did  do  it,  and  he 
needn't  'ny  it,  not  while  I'm  standin'  herel  Don't  you  let 
liirn  go,  ole  marse!  he's  cunnin'  as  de  debbil,  and  he'd  run 
away,  sure  as  ebber  you's  born!  You  take  my  Vice  and  don't 
you  let  him  go !  he  artful  as  ole  Sam ! " 

"  Katie,  Katie,  Katie  1 "  remonstrated  Ishmael,  in  a  low  voice. 

"  So  he  is,  den !  and  he  knows  it  himse'f,  too !  Yes,  you  is, 
you  grand  vilyun!  Ah,  ha  I  'member  how  you  stood  dere 
cussin'  and  swearin'  and  callin'  names,  and  sassin'  at  me,  hard 
as  ebber  you  could  1  Oh,  ho  I  I  telled  you  den  how  it  was  goin* 
to  be  I  You  didn't  beliebe  me,  didn't  you?  Berry  well,  dent 
Now  you  see  1  now  it's  my  turn ! " 

"  Katie,  be  silent ! "  ordered  Judge  Merlin  in  a  low  tone 

"Yes,  marse,  yes,  chile,  I  gwine  be  silent  arter  I  done  easo 
my  mind  speaking.  TJmph,  humph !  "  she  said,  turning  again  to 
the  unhappy  prisoner.  "  Umph,  humph!  thought  you  and  dat 
whited  salt-peter  was  gwine  gobern  de  world  all  your  own  way, 
didn't  you?  Heave  me  down  in  de  wault  to  sleep  long  o'  de 
rats,  didn't  you?  Ah,  ha!  where  you  sleep  las'  night — and 
where  you  gwine  to  sleep  to-night?  Not  in  your  feathery  bed, 
dat's  sartainl  Send  me  'cross  de  seas,  to  lib  long  ob  de  bar- 
bariums  in  de  Stingy  Islands,  didn't  you  ?  Oh,  ho !  where  you 
gwine  be  sent  'cross  de  seas?  Not  on  a  party  ob  pleasuie,  dat 
sartain,  too!  Ebber  hear  tell  ob  Bottommy  Bay,  eh?  Dere 
where  you  gwine.  Tell  you  good." 

Here  Sir  Alexander,  who  had  been  gazing  in  speechler-s  as 
tonishment  upon  what  seemed  to  him  to  be  an  incomprehensi 
ble  phenomenon,  recovered  himself,  found  his  voice,  and  said  to 
Judge  Merlin,  very  much  as  if  he  were  speaking  of  some  half 
'niiied  wild  animal: 

"  Keep  that  creature  quiet  or  she  must  be  removed." 

"Katie,"  said  Ishmael  gently,  "you  would  not  like  to  be 
•  ..ken  from  the  courtroom,  would  you  ? " 

"No!  'cause  I  don't  want  to  be  parted  from  my  lordship.  I 
tubs  him  so  well!"  replied  Katie,  with  a  vindictive  snap  of  her 
ayes. 

"Then  you  must  be  silent,"  said  Ishmael,  "or  you  will  be 
«ent  away. 

41  Look  here,  ole  marse ! "  said  Katie,  addressing  the  benchy 


FRUITS    OF   CRIME.  37 1 

u  he  had  his  sassagef  action  sassin'  at  me  dere  at  Scraggy !  now 
it's  my  turn !  And  I  gwine  gib  it  to  him  good,  too.  Say,  my 
lordship !  sold  me  to  a  low  life  'f  ectioner  to  work  in  de  kitchen 
• — didn't  you!  Umph-humph!  What  you  gwine  to  work  at? 
not  crickets,  dat's  sartain!  Ebber  try  to  take  your  recreation 
in  de  quarries  wid  a  big  ball  and  chain  to  your  leg,  eh?  And 
an  oberseer  wid  a  long  whip,  ha  ? "  she  grinned. 

"  Sir,  if  you  have  been  sufficiently  well  entertained  with 
this  exhibition  of  gorilla  intelligence  and  malignity,  will  you 
have  the  goodness  to  put  a  stop  to  the  performance  and  proceed 
with  the  business  of  the  day  ?  "  asked  Lord  Vincent  arrogantly. 

"  Aye,  lad !  though,  as  ye  ask  for  a  short  delay  of  proceeding, 
in  order  to  get  your  counsel,  which  is  but  reasonable,  there  is 
no  business  on  hand  but  just  to  remand  you  and  your  companion 
— puir  lassie ! — back  to  prison,  for  future  examination,"  said 
the  magistrate.  Then  turning  to  a  policeman,  he  said: 

"  If  that  strange  creature  becomes  disorderly  again,  remove 
her  from  the  room." 

"  Nebber  mind,  ole  marse !  he  no  call  for  to  take  de  trouble, 
I  done  said  all  I  gwine  to  say  and  now  I  gwine  to  shut  up  my 
mouf  tight.  I'd  scorn  ta  hit  a  man  arter  he's  down,"  said 
Katie,  bridling  with  a  lofty  assumption  of  magnanimity.  And 
as  she  really  did  shut  her  mouth  fast,  the  point  of  expulsion  was 
not  pressed. 

"  And  noo,  lad,  naething  remains  but  to  send  you  back,"  said 
Sir  Alexander. 

"  I  remarked  to  you  before,  sir,  that  I  object  to  be  remanded 
to  prison,  since  nothing  is  proved  against  me.  I  totally  object !  " 
said  the  viscount  stubbornly. 

"Aye,  lad,  it  appears  too  that  ye  object  to  maist  things  in 
legal  procedure;  the  whilk  is  but  natural,  ye  ken,  for  what 
saith  the  poet? 

"  '  Nae  thief  e'er  felt  the  halter  draw 
Wi*  guid  opinion  o'  the  law,'  " 

replied  the  magistrate,  with  a  touch  of  caustic  humor. 
"  But,  sir,  I  am  ready  to  give  bail  to  any  amount." 
"  It  will  na  do,  lad.    The  accusation  is  too  grave  a  one.    !N"ae 
doubt  ye  would  gi'e  me  bail,  and  leg  bail  to  the  boot  o'  that. 
!Ma,  Malcolm,  ye  hae  had  your  fling,  lad,  and  noo  yee'll  just  hae 
to  abide  the  consequences,"  replied  the  magistrate,  taking  up  a 
pen  to  sign  a  document  that  his  clerk  laid  before  him. 


372         SELF-RAISED;  OB,  FSOM  THE  DEPTHS. 

"  Then  I  hope,  sir,  that  since  we  are  to  be  kept  in  re^ 
straint,  we  shall  be  placed  in  something  like  human  quarters; 
and  not  in  that  den  of  wild  beasts,  your  filthy  police  station," 
said  the  viscount. 

"  Ou,  aye,  surely,  lad.  Ye  shall  be  made  as  comfortable  as  is 
consistent  wi'  your  safe-keeping.  Christie,  take  the  prisoners 
to  the  jail,  and  ask  the  governor  to  put  them  in  the  best  cells 
at  his  disposal,  as  a  special  favor  to  mysel'.  And  ask  him  also 
in  my  name  to  be  kind  and  considerate  to  the  female  prisoner 
— puir  lassie !  "  said  the  magistrate,  handing  the  document  to 
the  policeman  in  question. 

"  Ole  marse —  "  began  Katie,  breaking  her  word,  and  ad 
dressing  the  bench. 

"  The  court  is  adjourned,"  said  the  magistrate,  rising. 

"But,  ole  marse "  repeated  Katie. 

"Remove  the  prisoners,"  he  said,  coming  down  from  his 
seat. 

"  Yes,  but,  ole  marse —    -"  she  persisted. 

"  Dismiss  the  witnesses ! "  he  ordered,  passing  on. 

"  Laws  bless  my  soul  alive,  can't  a  body  speak  to  you  ? "  ex 
claimed  Katie,  catching  hold  of  his  coat  and  detaining  him. 

"  What  is  it  that  you  want,  creature  ? "  demanded  Sir  Alex 
ander,  in  astonishment. 

"  Only  one  parting  word  to  'lighten  your  mind,  ole  marse  I 
Which  it  is  dis :  Just  now  you  called  dat  whited  salt-peter  here 
a  pure  lassie,  which,  beggin'  your  pardon,  is  'fernally  false, 
dough  you  don't  know  it!  'cause  if  she's  pure,  all  de  wus  ob 
de  poor  mis'able  gals  ye  might  pick  up  out'n  de  streets  is  heb- 
benly  angels,  cherrybims,  and  serryfims.  Dere  now,  dat's  de 
trufe !  Don't  go  and  say  I  didn't  tell  you !  "  And  Katie  let  go 
his  coat. 

And  with  a  bow  to  Judge  Merlin  and  his  party  as  he  passed 
them,  Sir  Alexander  left  the  room. 

The  prisoners  were  removed — Faustina  weeping,  and  the  vis 
count  affecting  to  sneer. 

Judge  Merlin  and  Ishmael  went  forth  arm-in-arm.  Of  late 
the  old  man  needed  the  support  of  the  young  one  in  walking. 
Sorrow  and  anxiety,  more  than  age  and  infirmity,  had  bowed 
and  weakened  him.  As  the  friends  walked  on,  their  conver 
sation  turned  on  the  case  in  hand. 

"  The  magistrate  seems  disposed  to  be  very  lenient,"  said  the 
judge,  in  a  discontented  tone  of  voice. 


FRUITS    OF   CRIME.  373 

"Not  too  lenient,  I  think,  sir.  He  is  evidently  very  kindly 
disposed  towards  the  prisoner,  with  whose  family  he  seems  to 
be  personally  acquainted;  but,  notwithstanding  all  that,  you 
observe,  he  is  conscientiously  rigid  in  the  discharge  of  his  mag 
isterial  duties  in  this  case.  He  would  not  accept  bail  for  the 
prisoner,  although  by  stretching  a  point  he  might  have  done 
so,"  replied  Ishmael. 

"  I  wonder  if  he  knew  that  ?  I  wonder  if  he  really  knew  the 
extent  and  limit  of  his  power  as  a  magistrate?  I  doubt  it.  I 
fancy  he  refused  bail  in  order  to  keep  on  the  safe  side  of  an  un 
certainty.  For,  do  you  know,  he  impressed  me  as  being  a  very 
illiterate  man.  Why,  he  speaks  as  broadly  as  the  rudest  Scotch 
laborer  I  have  met  with  yet!  He  must  be  an  illiterate  man.'* 

"  Oh,  no,  sir ;  you  are  quite  mistaken  in  him.  Sir  Alexander 
McKetchum  is  a  ripe  scholar,  an  accomplished  mathematician, 
an  extensive  linguist,  and  last  of  all,  a  profound  lawyer.  He 
graduated  at  the  celebrated  law  school  of  Glasgow  University; 
at  least  so  I'm  assured  by  good  authority,"  replied  Ishmael. 

"  And  speaks  in  a  lingo  as  barbarous  as  that  of  our  own  ne 
groes  !  "  exclaimed  the  judge. 

Ishmael  smiled  and  said: 

"  I  have  also  been  informed  that  his  early  life  was  passed  in  ' 
poverty  and  obscurity,  until  the  death  of  a  distant  relation 
suddenly  enriched  him  and  afforded  him  the  means  of  paying 
his  expenses  at  the  University.  Perhaps  he  clings  to  his  rustic 
style  of  speech,  from  the  force  of  early  habit,  or  from  affection 
for  the  accent  of  his  childhood,  or  from  the  spirit  of  independ 
ence,  or  from  all  three  of  these  motives,  or  from  no  motive  at  \ 
all.  However,  with  the  style  of  his  pronunciation  we  have 
nothing  whatever  to  do.  All  that  we  are  concerned  about  ia 
his  honesty  and  ability  as  a  magistrate;  and  that  appears  to  me 
to  be  beyond  question." 

"  Oh,  yes,  yes,  I  dare  say,  he  will  do  his  duty.  I  am  pleased 
that  he  refused  bail  and  remanded  the  prisoners." 

"Yes,  he  did  his  duty  in  that  matter,  though  it  must  have 
been  a  very  disagreeable  one.  And  now,  sir,  as  the  prisoners 
are  remanded  and  we  have  nothing  more  to  detain  us  in  Banff, 
had  we  not  better  return  immediately  to  Edinboro'  ?  "  suggested 
Ishmael;  for  you  see,  ever  since  the  news  of  his  daughter's 
misfortunes  had  shaken  the  old  man's  strength,  it  was  Ishmael 
who  had  to  watch  over  him,  to  think  for  him  and  to  shape  his 
course. 


374        SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

"  Y — yes ',   perhaps  we  had.     But  when  I   return  to 
boro',  I  go  to  Cameron  Court,"  said  the  judge  hesitatingly. 

"  The  best  place  for  you,  sir,  beyond  all  question." 

"  Yes ;  and  by  the  way,  Ishmael,  I  am  charged  with  an  invi 
tation  from  the  Countess  of  Hurstmonceux  to  yourself,  in- 
eiting  you  to  accompany  me  on  my  visit  to  her  ladyship.  Do 
you  think  you  would  like  to  accept  it  ? " 

"  Very  much  indeed.  I  have  a  very  pleasant  remembrance 
of  Lady  Hurstmonceux,  though  I  doubt  whether  her  ladyship 
will  be  able  to  recollect  me,';  said  Ishmael  with  a  smile. 

The  judge  was  somewhat  surprised  at  this  ready  acqui 
escence.  After  a  short  hesitation,  he  said: 

"Do  you  know  that  Claudia  is  staying  at  Cameron  Court?" 

"  Why,  certainly.  It  was  for  that  reason  I  favored  your  go 
ing  there.  It  is,  besides,  under  the  circumstances,  the  most 
desirable  residence  for  Lady  Vincent." 

This  reply  was  made  in  so  calm  a  manner  that  any  latent 
doubt  or  fear  entertained  by  the  judge  that  there  might  be 
something  embarrassing  or  unpleasant  to  Ishmael  in  his  pros 
pective  meeting  with  Claudia  was  set  at  rest  forever. 

But  how  would  Claudia  bear  this  meeting?  How  would  she 
greet  the  abandoned  lover  of  her  youth  ?  That  was  the  question 
that  now  troubled  the  judge. 

It  did  not  trouble  Ishmael,  however.  He  had  no  doubts  or 
misgivings  on  the  subject.  True,  he  also  remembered  that  there 
had  been  a  long  and  deep  attachment  between  himself  and 
Claudia  Merlin;  but  it  had  remained  unspoken,  unrevealed. 
And  Claudia  in  her  towering  pride  had  turned  from  him  in  his 
struggling  poverty,  and  had  married  for  rank  and  title  another, 
whom  she  despised ;  and  he  had  conquered  his  ill-placed  passion 
and  fixed  his  affections  upon  a  lovelier  maiden.  But  that  all  be 
longed  to  the  past.  And  now,  safe  in  his  pure  integrity  and 
happy  love,  he  felt  no  sort  of  hesitation  in  meeting  Lady  Vin 
cent,  especially  as  he  knew  that,  in  order  to  save  her  ladyship 
effectually,  it  was  necessary  that  he  should  see  her  personally. 

But  Ishmael  never  lost  sight  of  the  business  immediately 
in  hand.  Their  walk  from  the  town  hall  towards  their  hotel 
took  them  immediately  past  the  Aberdeen  stage-coach  office. 
Here  Ishmael  stopped  a  moment,  to  secure  places  for  himself 
and  company  in  the  coach  that  started  at  eleven  o'clock. 

"We  shall  only  have  time  to  renrh  tho  hotel  and  pack  our 
portmanteaus  before  the  coach  will  call  for  us.  It  is  a  hasty 


FEUITS  OF  CKUIE.  375 

journey;  but  then  it  will  enable  us  to  catch  the  afternoon 
train  at  Aberdeen,  and  reach  Edinboro'  early  in  the  evening," 
said  Ishmael. 

And  the  judge  acquiesced. 

When  they  entered  the  inn,  they  found  that  the  professor 
and  the  three  negroes  were  there  before  them. 

Ishmael  gave  the  requisite  orders,  and  they  were  so  promptly 
executed  that  when,  a  few  minutes  later,  the  coach  called,  the 
whole  party  was  ready  to  start.  The  judge  and  Ishmael  rode 
inside,  and  the  professor  and  the  three  negroes  on  the  outside; 
and  thus  they  journeyed  to  Aberdeen,  where  they  arrived  in 
time  to  jump  on  board  the  express  train  that  left  at  two  o'clock 
for  Edinboro'.  They  reached  Edinboro'  at  five  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon,  and  drove  immediately  to  Magruder's  Hotel.  Here 
they  stopped  only  long  enough  to  change  their  traveling  dresses 
and  dine.  And  then,  leaving  the  three  negroes  in  charge  of  the 
professor,  they  set  out  in  a  cab  for  Cameron  Court.  It  was  eight 
o'clock  in  the  evening  when  they  arrived  and  sent  in  their 
cards. 

The  countess  and  Claudia  were  at  tea  in  the  little  drawing 
room  when  the  cards  were  brought  in. 

"  Show  the  gentlemen  into  this  room,"  said  Lady  Hurst- 
monceux  to  the  servant  who  had  brought  them. 

And  in  a  few  minutes  the  door  was  thrown  open  and— 
"  Judge  Merlin  and  Mr.  Worth "  were  announced. 

The  countess  arose  to  welcome  her  guests. 

But  Claudia  felt  all  her  senses  reel  as  the  room  seemed  to 
turn  around  with  her. 

Judge  Merlin  shook  hands  with  his  hostess  and  presented 
Ishmael  to  her,  and  then,  leaving  them  speaking  together,  he 
advanced  to  embrace  his  daughter. 

"  My  dearest  Claudia,  all  is  well.  We  have  settled  the  whole 
party,  the  viscount,  the  valet,  and  the  woman.  They  are  lodged 
in  jail,  and  are  safe  to  meet  the  punishment  of  their  crimes," 
he  said,  as  he  folded  her  to  his  bosom. 

But  oh!  why  did  her  heart  beat  so  wildly,  throbbing  almost 
audibly  against  her  father's  breast? 

He  held  her  there  for  a  few  seconds ;  it  was  as  long  as  he  de 
cently  could,  and  then,  gently  releasing  her,  he  turned  towards 
Ishmael,  and  beckoning  him  to  approach,  said  : 

"  My  daughter,  here  is  an  old  friend  come  to  see  you.  Wel« 
csome  him." 


376        SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

Ishmael  advanced  and  bowed  gravely. 

"I  am  glad  to  see  you,  Mr.  Worth,"  said  Claudia  in  a  lo* 
Voice,  a&  she  held  out  her  hand. 

He  took  it,  bowed  over  it,  and  said: 

"  I  hope  I  find  you  well,  Lady  Vincent." 

And  then  as  he  raised  his  head  their  3yes  met;  his  eyes — • 
those  sweet,  truthful,  earnest,  dark  eyes,  inherited  from  his 
mother — were  full  of  the  most  respectful  sympathy.  But  hers 
— oh,  hers! 

She  did  not  mean  to  look  at  him  so;  but  sometimes  the  soul 
in  a  crisis  of  agony  will  burst  all  bounds  and  reveal  itself, 
though  such  revelation  were  fraught  with  fate.  Grief,  shame, 
remorse,  and  passionate  regret  for  the  lost  love  and  squandered 
happiness  that  might  have  been  hers,  were  all  revealed  in  the 
thrilling,  pathetic,  deprecating  gaze  with  which  she  once  more 
met  the  eyes  of  her  girlhood's  young  worshiper,  her  worshiper 
no  longer. 

41  Of  all  sad  words  of  tongue  or  pen 
The  saddest  are  these:  '  It  might  have  been.'" 

Only  for  an  instant  did  she  forget  herself;  and  then  Claudia 
Merlin  was  repressed  and  Lady  Vincent  reinstated.  Her  voice 
was  calm  as  she  replied: 

"It  is  very  kind  in  you,  Mr.  Worth,  to  ?ome  so  long  a  dis 
tance,  at  so  great  a  cost  to  your  professional  interests,  for  the 
sake  of  obliging  my  father  and  serving  me." 

"  I  would  have  come  ten  times  the  distance,  at  ten  times  the 
cost,  to  have  obliged  or  served  either,"  replied  Ishmael  earnestly, 
as  he  resigned  her  hand,  which  until  then  he  had  held. 

"  I  believe  you  would.  I  know  you  would.  I  thank  you  more 
than  I  can  say,"  she  answered. 

"  Have  you  been  to  tea,  Judge  Merlin  ? "  inquired  the  count 
ess  hospitably. 

"  No,  madam ;  but  will  be  very  glad  of  a  cup,"  answered  the 
judge,  pleased  with  any  divertisement. 

Lady  Hurstmonceux  rang,  and  ordered  fresh  tea  and  toast 
and  more  cups  and  saucers.  And  the  party  seated  themselves. 
And  thus  the  embarrassment  of  that  dreaded  meeting  was 
overgot. 

While  they  sipped  their  tea  the  judge  exerted  himself  to  be 
interesting.  He  gave  a  graphic  account  of  the  scene  in  the 
magistrate's  office;  the  assumption  of  haughty  dignity  and  de- 


FRUITS    OF   CRIME.  377 

fiance  on  the  part  of  the  viscount;  the  pitiable  terrors  of  the 
ex-opera  singer;  the  vindictive  triumph  of  Katie;  and  the  broad 
accent,  caustic  humor,  and  official  obstinacy  of  the  magistrate. 
Ishmael,  when  appealed  to,  assisted  his  memory.  Claudia  was 
gravely  interested.  But  Lady  Hurstmonceux  was  excessively 
amused. 

They  were  surprised  to  hear  that  further  proceedings  were 
deferred;  but  they  at  last  admitted  that  they  would  be  obliged 
to  be  patient  under  "  the  law's  delays." 

After  tea,  fearing  that  her  guests  were  in  danger  of  "mop 
ing,"  Lady  Hurstmonceux  proposed  a  game  of  whist,  saying 
playfully  that  it  was  very  seldom  she  was  so  fortunate  as  to 
have  the  right  number  of  evening  visitors  to  form  a  rubber. 

And  as  no  one  gainsaid  their  hostess,  the  tea  service  was  taken 
away,  the  table  cleared,  and  the  cards  brought.  They  seated 
themselves  and  cut  for  partners;  and  Claudia  and  her  father 
were  pitted  against  Lady  Hurstmonceux  and  Ishmael. 

Do  you  wonder  at  this?  Do  you  wonder  that  people  who 
had  just  passed  through  scenes  of  great  trouble,  and  were  on 
the  eve,  yes,  in  the  very  midst  of  a  fatal  crisis,  people  whose 
minds  were  filled  with  sorrow,  humiliation,  and  intense  anxiety, 
should  gather  around  a  table  for  a  quiet  game  of  whist;  yes, 
and  enjoy  it,  too? 

Why,  if  you  will  take  time  to  reflect,  you  will  remember  that 
such  things  are  done  in  our  parlors  and  drawing  rooms  every 
day  and  night  in  our  lives.  Our  thoughts,  our  passions,  our 
troubles,  are  put  down,  covered  over,  ignored,  and  we — play 
whist,  get  interested  in  honors  and  odd  tricks,  and  win  or 
lose  the  rub;  or  do  something  equally  at  variance  with  the 
inner  life,  that  lives  on  all  the  same. 

Our  party  spent  a  pleasant  week  at  Cameron  Court. 

Ishmael  occupied  himself  with  making  notes  for  the  approach 
ing  trials,  or  with  visiting  the  historical  monuments  of  the 
neighborhood. 

Judge  Merlin  devoted  himself  to  his  daughter. 

Lady  Hurstmonceux  studied  the  comfort  of  her  guests,  and 
succeeded  in  securing  it. 

And  thus  the  days  passed  until  they  received  an  official  sum 
mons  to  appear  before  Sir  Alexander  McKetchum  at  the  ex 
amination  of  Lord  Vincent  and  Mrs.  Dugald. 


B78        SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE 


CHAPTER  XLIV. 

NEMESIS, 

With  pallid  cheeks  and  haggard  eyes, 
And  loud  laments  and  heartfelt  sighs, 
Unpitied,  hopeless  of  relief, 
She  drinks  the  cup  of  bitter  grief. 

In  vain  the  sigh,  in  vain  the  tear, 
Compassion  never  enters  here; 
But  justice  clanks  the  iron  chain 
And  calls  forth  shame,  remorse,  and  pain. 

— Anon. 

The  same  carriage  that  brought  Lord  Vincent  and  Mrs, 
Dugald  to  the  town  hall  conveyed  them  from  that  place  to  the 
county  jail. 

There  Lord  Vincent  finally  dismissed  it,  sending  it  home  to 
the  castle,  and  instructing  Cuthbert  to  pack  up  some  changes 
of  clothing  and  his  dressing-case  and  a  few  books  and  to  bring 
them  to  him  at  the  prison. 

Mrs.  Dugald  at  the  same  time  stopped  crying  long  enough 
to  order  the  old  man  to  ask  Mrs.  MacDonald  to  put  up  all  that 
might  be  necessary  to  her  comfort  for  a  week,  and  dispatch  it 
by  the  same  messenger  that  should  bring  Lord  Vincent's  effects. 

These  arrangements  concluded,  the  carriage  drove  away  and 
Policeman  McRae  conducted  his  prisoners  into  the  jail.  He 
took  them  first  into  the  warden's  room,  where  he  produced  the 
warrant  for  their  commital  and  delivered  them  up. 

The  warden,  "  Auld  Saundie  Gra'ame/'  as  he  was  familiarly 
styled,  was  a  tall,  gaunt,  hard-favored  old  Scot,  who  had  been 
too  many  years  in  his  present  position  to  be  astonished  at  any 
description  of  prisoner  that  might  be  confined  to  his  custody. 
In  his  public  service  of  more  than  a  quarter  of  a  century  he 
had  had  turned  over  to  his  tender  mercies  more  than  one  ele 
gantly  dressed  female,  and  many  more  than  o  j  titled  scamp. 
So,  without  evincing  the  least  surprise,  he  simply  took  the  fe 
male  prisoner,  named  in  the  warrant  "  Fausti  \  Dugald,"  to  be 
-just  what  she  was — a  fallen  angel  v,ho  had  dropped  into  the 
clutches  of  the  law;  and  the  male  prisoner,  named  in  the  war 
s-ant  "  Malcolm  Dugald,  Viscount  Vincent,"  to  be — what  he  was 
—a  noble  rogue,  guilty  of  being  found  out. 

While  he  was  reading  the  warrants,  entering  their  names  i& 


NEMESIS.  379 

his  books,  and  writing  out  a  receipt  for  their  "bodies,"  Lord 
Vincent  stood  with  his  fettered  hands  clasped,  his  head  bowed 
upon  his  chest,  and  -his  countenance  set  in  grim  endurance ;  and 
Faustina  stood  wringing  her  hands,  weeping,  and  moaning,  and 
altogether  making  a  good  deal  of  noise. 

"  Whisht,  whisht,  bairnie !  dinna  greet  sae  loud !  Hech !  but 
ye  mak'  din  eneugh  to  deave  a  miller !  "  expostulated  the  warden, 
as  he  handed  the  receipt  to  McRae  and  turned  his  regards  to  the 
female  prisoner. 

But  the  only  effect  of  his  words  upon  Faustina  was  to  open 
the  sluices  of  her  tears  and  make  them  flow  in  greater  abun 
dance. 

"  Eh,  lassie,  'tis  pity  of  you  too !  But  hae  ye  ne'er  been  tauld 
that  the  way  o'  the  transgreesor  is  haird?  and  the  wages  o'  sin 
is  deeth?"  said  the  "kindly"  Scot. 

"  But  I  do  not  deserve  death !  I  never  did  kill  anybody  my 
self  ! "  whimpered  Faustina. 

"  Wha  the  de'il  said  ye  did  ?  I  was  quoting  the  Book  whilk 
I  greatly  fear  ye  dinna  aften  look  into,  or  ye  would  na  be  here 
noo." 

"  But  I  have  no  right  to  be  here.  I  never  did  anything,  I, 
myself,  to  deserve  such  treatment.  It  was  Lord  Vincent's 
fault.  It  was  he  who  brought  me  to  this !  "  whined  Faustina. 

"  !Nae  doobt !  nae  doobt  at  a' !  He's  ane  o'  the  natural  enemies 
o'  your  sex,  ye  ken.  And  ye  suld  o'  thocht  o'  that  before  ye 
trusted  him  sae  far." 

"I  did  not  trust  him  at  all.  And  I  do  not  know  what  you 
mean  by  your  insinuations,  you  horrid  old  red-headed  beast ! " 
cried  Faustina. 

"  Whisht !  whisht !  haud  your  tongue,  woman !  Dinna  be  sae 
abusive!  Fou'  words  du  nae  guid,  as  I  aften  hae  occasion  to 
impress  upon  the  malefactors  that  are  brocht  here  for  safe 
keeping/'  said  the  jailer,  as  he  turned  and  looked  around  upon 
the  underlings  in  attendance.  Then  beckoning  one  of  the  turn 
keys  to  him,  he  said: 

"Here,  Cuddie,  tak'  this  lass  into  the  north  corridor  o'  the 
women's  ward;  and  when  ye  hae  her  safe  in  the  cell,  ye  maun 
knock  off  the  irons  fra  her  wrists.  Gang  wi'  Cuddie,  lass;  an 
dinna  be  fashed;  he's  nae  a  bad  chiel." 

Cuddie,  a  big,  honest,  gocd-natured  looking  brute,  took  a 
bunch  of  great  keys  from  their  hook  on  the  wall  and  signing 
for  his  prisoner  to  follow  him,  turned  to  depart. 


380  SELF-KAISED  J   OE,    FROM   THE   DEPTHS- 

But  Faustina  showed  no  disposition  to  obey  the  order.  Ancl 
McRae,  who  had  lingered  in  the  room,  now  turned  to  the  warden 
and  said : 

"  If  you  please,  sir,  Sir  Alexander  McKetchum  desired  me  to 
request  you  to  put  these  prisoners  into  as  comfortable  quarters 
as  you  could  command,  consistent  with  their  safe  custody." 

"  Sir  Alexander  would  do  weel  to  mind  his  ain  business.  Wha 
the  de'il  gi'e  him  commission  to  dictate  to  me  ? "  demanded  tha 
old  Scot  wrathfully. 

"Nay,  sir,  he  only  makes  the  request  as  a  personal  favor/' 
Baid  McRae  deprecatingly. 

"  Ou,  aye,  aweel,  that's  anither  thing.  Though  there's  nae 
muckle  of  choice  amang  the  cells,  for  that  matter;  forbye  it's 
the  four  points  o'  the  compass,  nor*,  sou',  east,  and  wast.  The 
jail  is  square  and  fronts  nor',  and  the  cells  range  accordingly. 
There's  nae  better  than  the  nor'  corridor  o'  the  women's  ward. 
Tak'  the  lass  awa,  Cuddie." 

Cuddie  laid  his  hand  not  unkindly  on  the  shoulder  of  his 
prisoner,  and  Faustina,  seeing  at  last  that  resistance  was  quite 
in  vain,  followed  him  out. 

"  Noo,  Donald,  mon,"  said  the  jailer,  beckoning  another  turn 
key,  "convey  his  lairdship  to  the  sou-wast  corner  cell  in  the 
men's  ward.  It  has  the  advantage  of  twa  windows  and  mare 
sunshine  than  fa's  to  the  lot  o'  prison  cells  in  general.  \nd 
•when  ye  get  him  there  relieve  him  o'  his  manacles." 

The  officer  addressed  took  down  his  bunch  of  keys,  and  turned 
to  his  prisoner.  But  Lord  Vincent  did  not  wait  for  the  dese 
crating  hand  of  the  turnkey  to  be  laid  upon  his  shoulder.  With 
a  haughty  gesture  and  tone  he  said: 

"  Lead  the  way,  fellow ;  I  follow  you." 

And  Donald  bowed  and  preceded  his  prisoner  as  if  he  had 
been  a  head-waiter  of  a  fashionable  hotel,  showing  an  honored 
guest  to  his  apartments. 

When  they  were  gone  the  old  warden  turned  to  the  po 
liceman  : 

"Will  it  gae  hard  wi'  them,  do  ye  think,  McRae?" 

"I  think  it  will  send  them  to  penal  servitude  for  twenty 
years  or  for  life." 

Meanwhile  Cuddie  conducted  his  prisoner  through  long  lines 
of  close,  musty,  fetid  passages,  and  up  high  flights  of  cold, 
damp  stone  stairs,  to  the  very  top  of  the  building,  where  the 
women's  wards  were  situated. 


NEMESIS. 

Here  lie  found  a  stout  old  woman,  in  a  linen  cap,  plaid  shawl, 
and  linsey  gown,  seated  at  an  end  window,  with  her  feet  upon  a 
foot-stove,  and  her  hands  engaged  in  knitting  a  stocking. 

She  was  Mrs.  Ferguson,  the  female  turnkey. 

"Here,  mither,  I  hae  brocht  you  anither  prisoner,"  said 
Cuddie,  coming  up  with  his  charge. 

The  old  woman  settled  her  spectacles  on  her  nose,  and  looked 
up,  taking  a  deliberate  survey  of  the  newcomer,  as  she  said : 

"  Hech !  the  quean  is  unco  f oine ;  they  be  braw  claes  to  coma 
to  prison  in.  Eh,  Cuddie,  I  wad  suner  hae  any  ither  than  ana 
o'  these  hizzies  brocht  in." 

"  But,  mither,  the  word  is  that  she  maun  be  made  comfort 
able,"  said  Cuddie. 

"Ou,  aye — nae  doobt!  she  will  be  some  callant's  light  o* 
luve,  wha  hae  a  plenty  o'  siller ! "  replied  the  old  woman  scorn 
fully,  as  she  rose  from  her  place  and  led  the  way  to  the  door 
of  a  cell  about  halfway  down  the  same  corridor. 

"Ye'll  pit  her  in  here.  It  will  be  as  guid  as  anither,"  she 
said. 

Cuddie  detached  a  certain  key  from  his  bunch  and  handed  it 
to  her.  She  opened  the  door,  and  they  entered.  The  cell  was  a 
small  stone  chamber,  six  feet  by  eight,  with  one  small  grated 
window,  facing  the  door.  On  the  right  of  the  window  was  a 
narrow  bed,  filling  up  that  side  of  the  cell;  on  the  left  was  a 
rusty  stove;  that  was  all;  there  was  no  chair,  no  table,  no  strip 
of  carpet  on  the  cold  stone  floor;  all  was  comfortless,  desolate. 

Faustina  burst  into  a  fresh  flood  of  tears  as  she  threw  herself 
upon  the  wretched  bed. 

"  Let  me  tak'  aff  the  fetters,"  said  Cuddie  gently. 

Faustina  arose  to  a  sitting  position,  and  held  up  her  hands. 

Cuddie,  with  some  trouble,  got  them  off,  but  so  awkwardly 
that  he  bruised  and  grazed  her  wrists  in  doing  so,  while  Faus 
tina  wept  piteously  and  railed  freely. 

Cuddie  was  too  good-natured  to  mind  the  railing,  but  the 
dame  fired  up: 

"Haud  your  growlin',  ye  ne'er-do  well!  Gin  ye  had  your 
deserts,  for  a  fou'-mouthed  jaud,  ye'd  be  in  a  dark  cell  on  bread 
and  water ! " 

"Whisht!  whisht,  mither!  Let  her  hae  the  lengtli  o*  her 
tongue,  puir  lass!  It  does  her  guid,  and  it  does  me  na  hurt. 
There,  lass — the  aims  are  aff,  and  if  you'll  o'ny  put  your  ker- 
shief  aroun'  your  bonnie  wrists  they'll  sune  be  weel  enough" 


382  SELF-KAISED  j    OR,    FROM   THE   DEPTHS. 

"  Take  me  away  I  take  me  away  from  that  horrid  old 
woman !  "  cried  Faustina,  turning  her  wrath  upon  the  dame, 
and  appealing  to  Cuddie. 

"  Whisht !  dinna  ye  mind  her.  She's  a  puir  doited  auld  car- 
line,"  said  Cuddie,  in  a  voice  happily  too  low  to  reach  the  ears 
of  said  "carline." 

"  Ye  maunna  guid  her  siccan  a  sair  gait,  mither,"  said  Cud- 
die,  as  they  left  the  cell. 

"I  doobt  she  has  guided  hersel*  an.  unco*  ill  one,"  retorted 
the  dame. 

Faustina  was  left  sitting  on  the  side  of  the  hard  bed,  weep 
ing  bitterly.  She  did  not  throw  off  her  bonnet  or  cloak.  She 
could  not  make  herself  at  home  in  this  wretched  den.  Be 
sides,  it  was  bitterly  cold ;  there  was  no  fire  in  the  rusty  stover 
and  she  wrapped  her  sables  more  closely  around  her. 

She  remained  there  in  the  same  position,  cowering,  shivering,, 
and  weeping,  for  two  or  three  miserable  hours,  when  she  was 
at  length  broken  in  upon  by  the  old  dame,  who  brought  in  her 
prison  dinner — coarse  beef  broth,  in  a  tin  can,  with  an  iron 
spoon,  and  a  thick  hunk  of  oatmeal  bread  on  a  tin  plate. 

"What  is  that?"  asked  Faustina. 

"Your  dinner.  Is  it  na  guid  o'  the  authorities  to  feed  the 
like  o'  you  for  naething?" 

"  My  dinner !  ugh !  Do  you  think  I  am  going  to  swallow  that 
swill — fit  only  for  pigs  ? "  exclaimed  Faustina,  in  disgust. 

"  Hech,  sirs !  what's  the  warld  comming  to  ?  It  is  guid  broose, 
verra  guid  broose,  that  many  an  honest  woman  would  be  unco' 
glad  to  hae  for  hersel'  and  her  puir  bairns,  forbyeyouf"  said 
the  dame  wrathf  ully. 

"  Take  it  away  1  the  sight  of  it  makes  me  ill  I n 

"  Verra  weel ;  just  as  you  please.  I'll  set  it  here,  till  ye  come 
to  your  stomach,"  said  the  dame,  setting  the  can  and  plate 
down  upon  the  stone  floor,  for  there  was  no  other  place  to  put 
them. 

"I  want  a  fire — I  am  frozen lw  cried  Faustina. 

"  Why  did  na  ye  say  sae  before  ? "  growled  the  dame,  going 
out. 

In  a  few  minutes  J.<-  came  back,  bringing  coals  and  kindlings, 
and  lighted  the  fire,  and  then  retreated  as  sullenly  as  she  had 
entered.  Faustina  drew  near  the  stove,  and  sat  down  upon  the 
floor  to  hover  over  it. 

When  she  grew  warm  her  eyes  began  to  glitter  danKeronalj , 


2TEME8I8.  883 

She  turned  herself  around  and  surveyed  the  place.  Like  the 
frozen  viper  thawed  to  life,  her  first  instinct  was  to  bite. 

"  I  would  like  to  set  fire  to  the  prison ! "  she  said. 

But  a  moment's  reflection  proved  to  her  the  folly  of  this 
impulse.  If  she  should  use  the  fire  in  her  stove  for  such  incen 
diary  purposes,  herself  would  be  the  only  thing  burned  up ;  the 
cell  of  stone  and  its  furniture  of  iron  would  escape  with  a 
smoking. 

She  put  off  her  bonnet  and  her  sables — the  first  time  since 
the  night  before,  and  she  threw  herself  upon  the  bed,  and  lay 
there  in  a  torment  until  six  o'clock  in  the  evening,  when  the 
door  was  once  more  unlocked  by  the  dame,  who  brought  her  the 
prison  supper — a  tin  can  of  oatmeal  porridge. 

"  Here's  your  parritch ;  ye  may  eat  it  or  leave  it,  just  as  ye 
please,"  said  the  woman,  setting  the  can  on  the  floor. 

"  I  want  some  tea !  I  will  have  none  of  your  filthy  messes  1 
Bring  me  some  tea ! "  cried  Faustina. 

"  I  wish  ye  may  get  it,  lassie,  that's  a',"  answered  the  dame, 
as  she  went  out  and  locked  the  door  behind  her. 

That  was  the  last  visit  Faustina  had  that  night.  She  lay  on 
her  hard  bed,  weeping,  moaning,  and  lamenting  her  fate,  until 
the  last  light  of  day  died  out  of  the  narrow  window,  and  left 
the  cell  in  darkness,  but  for  the  dim  red  ray  in  the  corner,  that 
showed  where  the  fire  in  the  rusty  stove  burned.  And  still  she 
lay  there,  until  the  pangs  of  hunger  began  to  assail  her.  These 
she  bore  some  time  before  she  could  overcome  her  repugnance 
to  the  prison  fare.  At  length,  however,  she  arose  and  groped 
her  way  about  the  stone  floor  until  she  found  the  can  of  beef 
broth,  which,  upon  trying,  she  discovered  to  taste  better  than 
it  looked.  She  ate  it  all;  then  she  ate  the  hunk  of  bread;  and 
finally  she  finished  with  the  oatmeal  porridge.  And,  then,  with 
out  undressing,  she  threw  herself  on  the  outside  of  her  bed ;  and, 
overcome  with  fatigue,  distress,  and  vigilance,  she  fell  into  a 
deep  sleep  that  lasted  until  the  morning. 

It  might  have  lasted  much  longer,  but  she  was  aroused  about 
seven  o'clock,  by  the  entrance  of  her  keeper,  bringing  her 
breakfast. 

"  Eh ! "  said  the  dame,  glancing  at  the  empty  cans,  "  but  I 
thocht  ye  would  come  to  your  stomach.  Here's  your  breakfast." 

Faustina  raised  herself  up  and  gazed  around  in  a  bewildered 
way,  but  she  soon  recollected  herself,  and  looked  inquiringly 
at  her  keeper 


384         SELF-RAISED;  OB,  FEOM  THE  DEPTHS. 

"  It's  your  breakfast,"  said  the  latter ;  "  it's  guid  rye  coffee, 
Bweeted  wi'  treacle,  and  a  braw  bit  o'  bannock." 

"I  want  water  and  soap  and  towels,"  said  Faustina,  in  an 
angry,  peremptory  manner. 

"  Ou,  aye,  nae  doobt ;  and  ye  would  like  a  lady's  maid,  and 
perfumery  'till  your  toilet.  Aweel,  there  is  a  stone  jug  and 
bowl  of  water,  and  a  hempen  clout  ahint  the  stove,  gin  that  will 
serve  your  purpose,"  said  the  dame,  setting  down  the  breakfast, 
and  gathering  the  empty  cans  from  the  floor  as  she  left  the 
cell. 

Faustina,  poor  wretch,  made  such  a  toilet  as  her  rude  pro- 
vidings  enabled  her  to  do,  and  then,  with  what  appetite  she 
might,  made  her  morning  meal.  And  then  she  sat  on  the  edge 
of  her  bed  and  cried  and  wished  herself  dead. 

At  about  eleven  o'clock  she  heard  footsteps  and  voices  ap 
proaching  the  cell.  And  the  door  was  opened  by  the  turnkey, 
who  ushered  in  Mrs.  MacDonald,  followed  by  a  servant  from 
the  castle,  bringing  a  large  box  and  a  basket. 

The  servant  set  down  his  burdens  and  retired  with  the  turn 
key,  who  immediately  locked  the  door. 

And  not  until  then,  when  they  were  left  alone,  did  this  pre 
cious  pair  of  female  friends  rush  into  each  other's  arms,  Faus 
tina  bursting  into  tears  and  sobbing  violently  on  the  bosom  of 
Mrs.  MacDonald,  and  Mrs.  MacDonald  wheedling,  caressing, 
and  soothing  Faustina. 

"Mine  pet,  mine  darling,  mine  bonny  bairn,"  were  some  of 
the  epithets  of  endearment  bestowed  by  the  lady  upon  her  fa 
vorite. 

"  Oh,  madame,  what  a  purgatory  of  a  place,  and  what  demons 
of  people  1 "  Faustina  cried. 

"  Yes,  my  sweet  child,  yes,  I  know  it  I  but  bear  up  I n 

"  Nothing  fit  to  eat,  or  drink,  or  sleep  on,  or  sit  down,  or  even 
to  wash  with ;  and  no  one  to  speak  a  civil  word  to  me !  "  wailed 
Faustina,  still  dwelling  upon  present  inconveniences  rather  than 
thinking  of  the  future  perils. 

"  Yes,  my  dear,  yes,  I  know ;  but  now,  sit  you  down  and  see 
what  I  have  brought  you,"  said  Mrs.  MacDonald,  gently  forcing 
Faustina  to  seat  herself  upon  the  side  of  the  bed. 

"Look  at  my  poor  dress,"  said  Faustina,  pointing  down  to 
the  delicate  white  evening  dress  in  which  she  had  been  arrested, 
and  which  was  now  crumpled,  torn,  and  stained. 

"Eh,  but  that's  a  woeful  sight!     But  I  thought  of  it,  my 


ffEMESIS,  385 

bairn,  and  I  have  brought  you  a  plain  black  silk  and  white 
linen  collars  and  sleeves.  Let  me  help  you  to  change  your  dress, 
and  I  will  take  that  white  one  home  with  me." 

Faustina  agreed  to  this,  and  when  the  change  was  effected 
she  certainly  presented  a  more  respectable  appearance. 

Mrs.  MacDonald  next  unpacked  the  large  basket,  taking  from 
it  a  dressing-case,  furnished  with  every  requisite  for  the  toilet; 
a  work-box,  with  every  convenience  for  a  lady's  busy-idleness; 
and  a  writing-desk,  with  every  necessary  article  for  epistolary 
correspondence. 

"  Now  where  shall  I  put  them?  "  she  inquired,  looking  around 
nipon  the  bare  cell. 

"Ah,  the  beastly  place  I"  exclaimed  Faustina;  "there  is  no 
table,  no  stand;  you  will  have  to  leave  them  on  the  floor  or  set 
them  on  the  window  silL" 

Mrs.  MacDonald  ranged  them  on  the  floor,  against  the  wall, 
tinder  the  window. 

And  then  she  rolled  up  the  spoiled  evening  dress  and  crowded 
it  into  the  empty  basket.  Kext  she  took  the  trunk  and  pushed 
it  under  the  bed,  saying; 

"  In  that  trunk,  my  dear,  you  will  find  every  requisite  change 
of  clothing.  The  basket  I  will  take  back." 

"  Ah,  but  I  want  many  more  things  beside  clothing.  I  want 
tea  and  coffee.  I  want  bed  linen  and  china;  and — many  more 
things,"  said  Faustina  impatiently. 

"And  you  shall  have  everything  you  want,  my  dear.  Your 
purse  is  in  your  writing  desk.  There  are  a  hundred  and  forty 
guineas  in  it.  Money  will  buy  you  all  you  want.  And  I  will 
see  it  brought,"  said  Mrs.  Dugald,  going  to  the  cell  door  and 
rapping. 

Dame  Ferguson  came  and  unlocked  it. 

"  I  wish  to  come  out,"  said  Mrs.  MacDonald. 

"Aye,  me  leddy,"  said  the  dame,  courtesying  and  making 
way  for  the  visitor  to  pass;  for  the  carriage,  with  the  Hurst- 
monceux  arms  emblazoned  upon  its  panels,  the  servant  in  the 
livery  of  the  Earl  of  Hurstmonceux,  and  the  haughty  air  of 
the  lady  visitor,  all  impressed  the  femiale  turnkey  with  a  feel 
ing  of  awe. 

"  I  wish  to  speak  with  you,  dame,"  said  Mrs.  MacDonald. 

"  Aye,  me  leddy,  and  muckle  honor  till  me ! "  replied  the 
woman,  with  another  low  courtesy,  as  she  led  the  way  to  hei 
seat  at  the  window  at  the  extreme  end  of  the  corridor. 


386        SELF-RAISED;  OB,  FEOM  THE  DEPTHS. 

"I  wish  to  bespeak  your  attention  to  the  lady  I  have  just 
left,"  said  Mrs.  MacDonald. 

"Aye,  me  leddy!  Ye  will  be  ane  o'  the  beneevolent  leddies 
wha  gang  about,  seeking  for  the  lost  sheep  o'  the  house  o'  Israel, 
meaning  sic  puir  misguided  lasses  as  yon !  Ye'll  be  aiblins,  ane 
o'  the  leddy  directors  o'  the  Magdalen  Hospital  ? "  said  Mrs. 
Ferguson. 

i    "  The — what?    I  don't  know  what  you  mean,  woman.    I  am 
speaking  to  you  of  a  lady — the  Honorable  Mrs.  Dugald." 

"  A  leddy  ?  The  Honorable  Mistress  Dugald  ?  Ou !  aye  I  f  or- 
gi'e  me,  your  leddyship.  I'm  e'en  but  a  puir,  auld,  doitted 
bodie.  I  e'en  thocht  ye  were  talking  o'  yon  misguided  quean 
in  the  cell.  The  Honorable  Mistress  Dugald.  She'll  be  like 
yoursel',  intereested  in  yon  lassie;  and  aiblins  ain  o'  the  leddy 
direectors  o'  the  Magdalen." 

"I  think  you  are  a  fool.  The  misguided  lassie,  as  you  have 
the  impudence  to  call  her,  is  no  misguided  lassie  at  all.  She  is 
the  Honorable  Mrs.  Dugald,  of  Castle  Cragg,"  said  Mrs.  Mac- 
Donald  impatiently. 

"Wha — she — the  lass  in  yon  cell,  the  Honorable — Mistress 
—Dugald?" 

"Herself!" 

"Hech,  that's  awfuM" 

"  So  I  wished  to  give  you  a  hint  to  treat  her  with  the  con 
sideration  due  to  her  rank." 

"Eh,  sirs!  but  that's  awfu'l"  repeated  the  dame,  unable 
to  overget  her  astonishment. 

"  She  has  money  enough  to  pay  for  all  that  she  requires  and 
to  reward  those  who  are  kind  to  her  besides,"  continued  Mrs. 
MacDonald. 

"  !N"ae  doobt !  nae  doobt !  bags  o'  gowd  and  siller !  bags  o'  gowd 
and  siller!  What  a  puir,  auld.  doitted,  fule  bodie  I  was,  to  be 
sure,"  said  the  dame,  in  a  tone  of  regret. 

"  Now,  I  want  to  know  whether  she  cannot  have  a  few  com 
forts  in  her  cell,  if  she  is  able  and  willing  to  pay  for  them,  and 
to  reward  her  attendants  for  bringing  them?" 

"And  what  for  no?  The  bonny  leddy  sail  hae  a*  that  she 
craves,  whilk  is  consistent  wi'  her  safe-keeping." 

u  And  certainly  her  friends  would  ask  no  more." 

"  What  would  her  leddyship  like  to  begin  wi'  ?  " 

"  She  is  to  remain  here  for  a  week ;  therefore  she  would  like 
to  have  her  cell  fitted  up  comfortably.  She  will  want  a  piece 


NEMESIS.  387 

of  carpeting  to  cover  the  floor;  some  nice  fine  bedding  and  bed 
linen;  a  toilet  service  of  china;  a  single  dinner  and  tea  service 
of  china;  and  a  silver  fork  and  spoon.  Can  you  recollect  all 
these  articles  ? " 

"What  for  no?" 

"But  stay,  I  forgot;  she  will  want  a  small  table  and  an  easy- 
chair  and  footstool.  Can  you  remember  them  all?" 

"Ilk  a  ane!" 

"  Twenty  pounds,  I  should  think,  would  cover  the  whole  ««- 
pense.  Here  is  the  money;  take  it  and  send  out  and  get  the 
things  as  soon  as  you  can,"  said  Mrs.  MacDonald,  putting  two 
ten-pound  notes  in  the  hand  of  the  dame. 

"I'll  hae  them  all  in  by  twal'  o'  the  clock,"  answered  the 
dame  zealously.  "Be  guid  till  us!  The  Honorable  Mrs.  Du- 
gald!  Yon  quean!  Who'd  hae  thocht  it?  But  what  will  be 
the  reason  they  pit  the  bonny  leddy  in  prison  ?  It's  wonderf  u' ! 
It  canna  be  for  ony  misdeed  ? " 

"  No,  dame,  it  is  for  no  misdeed.  Ah !  you  have  not  read  his 
tory,  or  you  would  know  that  ladies  of  the  highest  rank,  even 
queens  and  princesses,  have  been  sometimes  put  in  prison." 

"  Guid  be  guid  till  us !  For  what  crime,  gin  your  leddyship 
pleases  ? " 

"For  no  crime  at  all.  They  have  been  accused  of  treason, 
or  conspiracy,  or  something." 

"  And  sic  will  be  the  case  wi'  this  puir  leddy? " 

"  Yes,"  said  Mrs.  MacDonald,  whose  regard  for  the  truth  was 
not  of  the  strictest  description. 

"  And  what  did  they  do  wi'  the  puir  queens  ? " 

"  Cut  off  their  heads." 

"  Hech !  that  was  awf u'  I  And  what  will  they  do  wi'  this  puir 
leddy?" 

"Release  her  after  a  while,  because  they  can  prove  nothing 
against  her,  and  because  she  has  powerful  friends." 

"  Eh,  but  that's  guid." 

"  And  those  friends  will  well  reward  such  of  the  officers  of  the 
prison  as  shall  be  kind  to  her  during  her  incarceration,"  said 
Mrs.  MacDonald  meaningly.  "  And  now  I  will  trouble  you  to 
unlock  the  door  and  admit  me  for  a  few  minutes  to  see  Mrs. 
Dugald." 

"  Surely,  me  leddy,"  said  the  dame,  with  alacrity. 

When  Mrs.  MacDonald  found  herself  once  more  alone  with 
her  friend  she  said: 


388        SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS, 

"You  will  have  everything  you  may  require  for  your  com 
fort  in  the  course  of  a  few  hours;  and  you  will  have  no  more 
trouble  from  the  insolence  of  your  attendant.  I  have  arranged 
all  that.  And  now,  my  dear,  I  am  going  to  see  the  viscount. 
What  message  have  you  for  him  ? " 

"  None  at  all.  I  hate  him ;  he  has  brought  me  to  this !  And 
he  deceived  me  about  the  black  woman's  death  and  nearly  fright 
ened  me  into  illness.  Ah !  the  beast ! "  exclaimed  Faustina, 
with  a  vehemence  of  spite  that  quite  astounded  her  visitor. 

"  My  dear,"  she  said,  after  she  had  in  some  degree  recovered 
her  composure  and  collected  her  faculties,  "  that  there  is  some 
thing  very  dreadful  in  this  arrest  no  one  can  doubt;  some  charge 
of  kidnaping  in  which  you  are  both  said  to  be  implicated.  But 
let  us  hope  that  the  charge  will  be  disproved;  let  us  say  that  it 
will;  in  which  case,  will  it  be  well  for  you  to  quarrel  with  the 
viscount?  Think  of  it,  and  send  him  some  kind  message." 

"  I  cannot  think,  and  I  will  not  send  him  any  message,"  per 
sisted  Faustina. 

"  Then  I  must  think  for  you.  Good-by  for  a  little  while,  my 
pet.  I  will  be  with  you  again  before  I  leave  town,"  said  Mrs. 
MacDonald,  as  she  left  the  cell. 

She  proceeded  immediately  to  the  warden's  office,  and  re 
quested  permission  to  visit  the  Viscount  Vincent  in  his  cell. 

"  Auld  Saundie  Gra'am,"  as  he  was  called,  beckoned  the  turn 
key  of  the  ward  in  which  the  viscount  was  confined,  and  ordered 
him  to  conduct  the  lady  to  Lord  Vincent's  cell.  The  man  took 
down  his  bunch  of  keys  and,  with  a  bow,  turned  and  preceded 
Mrs.  MacDonald  upstairs  to  a  corridor  on  the  second  floor, 
flanked  each  side  with  grated  doors. 

The  visitor  followed  her  conductor  up  the  whole  length  of 
this  corridor  to  a  corner  door,  which  he  unlocked  to  admit  the 
visitor.  As  soon  as  she  passed  in  he  locked  the  door  on  her 
and  remained  waiting  on  the  outside. 

Mrs.  MacDonald  found  herself  in  the  presence  of  Lord  Vin 
cent.  As  the  cell  occupied  by  the  viscount  was  in  the  angle 
of  the  building  it  possessed  the  advantage  of  two  small  win 
dows,  one  with  a  southern  and  one  with  a  western  outlook.  And 
the  sun  shone  in  all  day  long,  giving  it  a  more  cheerful  aspect 
than  usually  belongs  to  such  dreary  places.  It  was  furnished 
with  the  usual  hard  narrow  bed  and  rusty  iron  stove.  Besides 
this,  it  had  the  unusual  convenience  of  a  chair,  upon  which  the 
viscount  sat,  and  a  table  at  which  he  wrote. 


NEMESIS.  389 

In  one  corner  of  the  cell  was  old  Cuthbert,  kneeling  down 
over  an  open  trunk  from  which  he  was  unpacking  his  master's 
effects.  As  Mrs.  MacDonald  entered  the  viscount  arose,  bowed, 
and  handed  her  to  the  solitary  chair  with  as  much  courtly  grace 
as  though  he  had  been  doing  the  honors  of  his  own  drawing- 
room. 

"  I  find  you  more  comfortable,  or  rather,  as  I  should  say,  less 
uncomfortable,  than  I  found  Mrs.  Dugald,  poor  child,"  said  the 
visitor,  after  she  sank  into  a  seat. 

"Yes,  thanks  to  the  chance  that  left  my  pocketbook  in  my 
pocket,"  answered  the  prisoner,  with  a  defiant  smile,  as  he  seated 
himself  on  the  side  of  the  cot. 

"I  found  her  with  scarcely  the  decent  necessaries  of  life; 
but  I  have  sent  out  to  purchase  for  her  what  is  needful,  poor 
angel." 

The  smile  died  out  of  the  viscount's  face,  which  became  pale, 
cold,  and  hard  as  marble.  He  made  no  reply. 

"  She  sent  you  many  kind  messages,"  began  Mrs.  MacDonald ; 
but  the  viscount  interrupted  her. 

"  Madam,"  he  said,  "  I  wish  never  to  hear  that  woman's  name 
mentioned  in  my  hearing  again." 

"Eh,  but  that  is  strange!  You  will  have  had  a  misunder 
standing." 

"A  misunderstanding!  I  tell  you,  madam,  that  her  base 
cowardice,  her  shameful  treachery,  and  her  utter  selfishness 
have  disgusted  me  beyond  measure." 

"  Eh,  me !  friends  should  na  quarrel  that  length  either.  You 
have  both  had  your  tempers  severely  tried.  When  you  get  out  of 
this  trouble  you  will  be  reconciled  to  each  other." 

"  Never !  I  loathe  that  woman !  And  if  I  were  free  to-day,  my 
first  act  should  be  to  hurry  to  Castle  Cragg  and  bar  the  doors 
against  her  re-entrance  there.  And  my  second  should  be  to 
send  all  her  traps  after  her." 

Finding  at  length  that  it  was  worse  than  useless  to  speak  one 
word  in  favor  of  Faustina  while  the  viscount  was  in  his  present 
mood  of  mind,  Mrs.  MacDonald  turned  the  conversation  by : 

"Well,  my  lord,  I  hope  you  have  taken  proper  precautions 
for  your  defense  at  the  preliminary  examination." 

"  I  have  engaged  counsel,  who  is  even  now  at  work  upon  my 
case." 

"And  I  trust,  my  lord,  that  you  have  summoned  the  earl 
His  presence  here  would  be  a  tower  of  strength  to  you." 


390  BELF-EAISKD  J    OK,    FROM  THE   DEPTHS. 

"I  am  aware  of  that.  I  do  not,  however,  know  e:.actly  whera 
to  put  my  hand  down  upon  my  father.  I  telegraphed  to  his 
London  bankers  to-day  to  know  his  address.  The  answer  caine 
that  he  was  at  St.  Petersburg  at  the  last  advices.  I  shall  cause 
a  telegram  to  be  sent  to  him  there,  in  the  care  of  our  minister. 
It  may  or  may  not  find  him." 

"  And  now,  my  lord,  what  can  I  do  for  you  ? "  said  Mrs.  Mac- 
Donald,  rising. 

"Nothing,  whatever,  my  dear  madam,  except  to  return  to 
the  castle  and  remain  there  and  keep  it  warm  for  me  against  I 
get  back,"  said  the  viscount  courteously,  rising  to  see  his  visi 
tor  to  the  door  of  the  cell — a  distance  of  eight  feet  from  the 
spot  where  they  stood. 

Mrs.  MacDonald  went  back  to  the  cell  of  Faustina,  where  she 
remained  until  the  comforts  she  had  sent  her  were  brought  in. 
Then  she  superintended  their  arrangement,  and  even  assisted 
with  her  own  hands  in  the  laying  down  of  the  strip  of  carpet, 
the  making  of  the  bed,  and  the  adjusting  of  the  table. 

"  There,  my  dear,"  she  said,  when  all  was  done ;  "  I  think 
you  are  now  as  tidy  and  as  comfortable  as  it  is  possible  to  be 
in  such  a  place  as  this." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Faustina ;  "  but  since  you  have  been  in 
here  this  last  time  you  have  not  once  mentioned  Lord  Vin 
cent's  name.  I  suppose  you  have  a  reason  for  your  reticence. 
I  suppose  he  has  been  speaking  ill  of  me.  It  would  be  like  him, 
to  bring  me  into  this  trouble  and  then  malign  me." 

"  No,  my  darling,  he  has  not  breathed  a  syllable  of  reproach 
against  you.  He  has  spoken  of  you  most  considerately.  He 
has  charged  me  with  many  affectionate  messages  to  you,"  said 
this  disinterested  peacemaker,  whose  personal  interests  were  all 
at  stake  in  the  quarrel  between  the  viscount  and  his  fellow- 
prisoner. 

"  I  don't  want  to  hear  his  messages.  I  hate  the  sound  of  his 
name,  and  I  wish  I  had  never  seen  the  sight  of  his  face.  But, 
Mrs.  MacDonald,  I  thank  you  for  the  kindness  you  have  shown 
me,"  said  Faustina. 

Mrs.  MacDonald  kissed  her  by  way  of  answer.  And  then  she 
sent  out  and  ordered  a  luxurious  little  dinner,  which  was 
promptly  brought  and  served  in  the  cell.  And  after  dinner 
they  had  a  dessert  of  fruit,  and  after  that  coffee,  just  as  they 
had  been  accustomed  to  have  these  things  at  Castle  Cragg. 

Coffee  cup  in  hand,  Mrs.  MacDonald  remained  chatting  with 


NEMESIS.  391 

her  friend  until  the  hour  arrived  for  locking  up  the  prison  for 
the  night.  Then,  with  a  promise  to  return  the  next  day,  and 
to  come  every  day,  she  took  leave  and  departed,  returning  to 
Castle  Cragg  in  the  family  carriage,  driven  by  old  Cuthbert. 

This  day  was  a  fair  sample  of  all  the  days  passed  in  prison 
by  the  Viscount  Vincent  and  Mrs.  Dugald  up  to  the  time  of 
the  preliminary  examination  before  the  magistrate. 

The  viscount  occupied  himself  with  writing,  making  notes 
for  his  defense,  or  holding  consultation  with  his  counsel.  As 
he  had  plenty  of  ready  money,  he  did  not  want  any  comfort, 
convenience,  or  luxury  that  money  could  provide.  The  earl, 
his  father,  however,  did  not  arrive,  and  had  not  even  been 
heard  from. 

Faustina  passed  her  days  in  prison  in  eating,  drinking,  sleep 
ing,  and  repining.  Mrs.  MacDonald  came  in  every  day  to  see 
her,  and  always  stayed  and  dined  with  her.  Mrs.  MacDonald 
rather  liked  the  daily  airing  she  got  in  her  ride  to  and  fro  be 
tween  the  castle  and  the  prison.  She  liked  also  the  epicurean 
dinners  that  Faustina  would  buy  and  pay  for,  and  thus  she  was 
a  miracle  of  constancy  and  fidelity. 

Old  dame  Ferguson  was  their  attendant.  She  also  was 
bought  with  money.  And  from  having  been  the  arrogant  mis 
tress  of  her  prisoner,  she  was  now  the  humble  slave  of  her 
'  leddyship," — that  being  the  title  to  which  she  had  advanced 
Mrs.  Dugald. 

Thus  the  days  passed,  bringing  at  length  the  important  morn 
ing  upon  which  the  preliminary  examination  was  to  be  held, 
in  which  it  was  to  be  decided  whether  these  prisoners  should 
be  honorably  discharged  or  whether  they  should  be  committed 
to  jail  to  stand  their  trial  upon  the  charge  of  kidnaping  and 
conspiracy. 

The  Earl  of  Hurstmonceux  had  not  yet  been  heard  from; 
but  the  Viscount  Vincent  had  prepared  himself  with  the  best 
defense  possible  to  be  got  up  in  his  case. 

Judge  Merlin  and  his  witnesses  had  been  duly  notified  to 
appear;  and  they  were  now  in  town,  lodging  at  the  very  hou*5 
from  which  the  prisoners  obtained  their  recherche  meals. 


392        BELF-KAISED;  OR,  FKOM  THE  DEPTHS 
CHAPTER  XLV. 

THE  VISCOTJNT'S  FALL. 

They  that  on  glorious  ancestors  enlarge 
Produce  their  debt  instead  of  their  discharge. 

— Young. 

The  viscount  ordered  his  carriage  to  oe  in  readiness  to  con 
vey  him  to  the  magistrate's  office.  Old  Cuthbert  was  punctual. 
And  accordingly  on  the  morning  in  question  Lord  Vincent,  and 
Faustina,  attended  by  Mrs.  MacDonald,  and  the  policemen  that 
had  them  in  custody,  entered  the  carriage  and  were  driven  to 
the  town  hall. 

Here  again,  as  on  a  former  occasion,  the  viscount,  in  alight 
ing,  ordered  the  coachman  to  keep  the  carriage  waiting  for  him. 
Then  he  and  his  party  passed  through  the  same  halls  and  ante 
chambers,  guarded  by  policemen,  and  entered  the  magistrate's 
office. 

Sir  Alexander  McKetchum  was  already  in  his  seat  on  the 
little  raised  platform.  His  clerk  sat  at  a  table  below  him.  On 
his  right  hand  stood  several  officers  of  the  law.  On  his  left 
hand  stood  Judge  Merlin,  Ishmael  Worth,  and  the  witnesses 
that  had  been  summoned  for  the  prosecution. 

The  Policeman  McRae  led  his  charge  up  in  front  of  the  mag 
istrate,  and  taking  off  his  hat,  said: 

"Here  are  the  prisoners,  your  worship." 

Lord  Vincent,  as  with  the  purpose  of  proving  himself  a  gen 
tleman  at  least  in  external  manners,  even  under  the  most 
trying  circumstances,  advanced  and  bowed  to  the  magistrate. 

Sir  Alexander  acknowledged  his  salute  by  a  nod,  and  then 
said: 

"  Noo,  then,  as  ye  are  here,  me  laird,  we  may  as  weel  proceed 
wi'  the  investigation." 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  sir;  I  am  expecting  my  counsel,"  said 
the  viscount. 

"Aweel!  I  suppose  we  maun  wait  a  bit,"  said  the  magis 
trate. 

But  at  this  moment  the  counsel  for  the  prisoner  hurried  into 
the  office. 

"We  have  waited  for  you,  Mr.  Bruce,"  said  the  viscount  re 
proachfully. 


THE  VISCOUNT'S  FALL.  393 

<e  I  am  very  sorry  that  you  should  have  been  obliged  to  do  so, 
my  lord!  But  the  truth  is,  I  have  been  to  the  telegraph  office, 
to  send  a  message  of  inquiry  at  the  last  moment  to  your  lord 
ship's  London  bankers,  to  ask  if  the  Earl  of  Hurstmonceux  had 
yet  been  heard  from.  I  waited  for  the  answer,  which  has  but 
just  arrived,  and  which  has  proved  unsatisfactory." 

"  The  earl  has  not  written  to  his  London  bankers,  then  ?  " 

"  No,  my  lord." 

"  Are  you  ready  for  the  examination  ?  " 

"  Quite,  my  lord." 

"Aweel,  then,  I  suppose  we  may  proceed,"  said  Sir  Alex 
ander. 

"  At  your  worship's  convenience,"  replied  Mr.  Bruce,  with 
a  bow. 

And  thereupon  the  proceedings  commenced.  The  magis 
trate  took  up  the  warrant  that  had  been  issued  for  the  arrest 
of  the  prisoners,  and  read  it  to  them  aloud.  Then  addressing 
them  both,  he  said: 

"  Malcolm,  Laird  Vincent,  and  you,  Faustina  Dugald,  are 
herein  charged  wi'  having  felonious  conspired  against  the  guid 
character  o'  Claudia,  Viscountess  Vincent,  and  to  farther  said 
conspiracy,  wi'  having  abducted  and  sold  into  slavery  the 
bodies  of  three  negroes,  named  herein — Catherine  Mortimer, 
James  Mortimer,  and  Sarah  Sims;  whilk  are  felony  against 
the  peace  and  dignity  o'  the  Queen's  majesty,  and  punishable 
by  penal  servitude,  according  to  the  statute  in  sich  cases  made 
and  provided.  What  hae  ye  to  say  for  yoursel's  in  answer  to 
this  charge  ? " 

"  I  deny  it  in  toto.  And  I  think  it  infamous  that  I  should  be 
called  to  answer  such  an  insulting  charge,"  said  the  viscount 
with  a  fine  assumption  of  virtuous  indignation. 

"And  sae  do  I  think  it  infamous;  I  agree  wi'  ye  there,  lad! 
But  as  to  whilk  pairty  the  infamy  attaches  to,  there  we  may 
differ,"  said  the  magistrate,  nodding. 

The  viscount  drew  himself  up  in  haughty  silence,  as  though 
he  disdained  farther  reply. 

"  And  noo,  Faustina  Dugald,  what  hae  ye  to  say  for  your- 
sel'?" 

"  I  did  not  conspire !  I  did  not  abduct !  I  did  not  sell  into 
slavery  any  negro  bodies !  I  did  not  do  anything  wrong !  ISot 
I  myself ! "  cried  Faustina  vehemently. 

"  There,  there,  that  will  do.     We  will  hear  the  testimony  on 


394         SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS, 

this  case.  Let  Ishmael  Worth,  of  Washington,  come  forward," 
said  the  magistrate. 

Ishmael  advanced,  bowed  to  the  magistrate,  and  stood  waiting. 

"  Ross,  administer  the  oath,"  said  the  magistrate. 

The  clerk  took  a  copy  of  the  Holy  Scriptures  and  held  them 
towards  Ishmael,  at  the  same  time  dictating  the  oath,  accord 
ing  to  the  custom  of  such  officials. 

But  Ishmael,  at  the  very  onset,  courteously  interrupted  him 
by  saying  gently : 

"  I  am  conscientiously  opposed  to  taking  an  oath ;  but  I  will 
make  a  solemn  affirmation  of  the  truth  of  what  I  am  about  to 
state." 

There  was  some  objection  made  by  the  counsel  for  the  pris 
oners,  some  hesitation  upon  the  part  of  the  clerk,  some  consul 
tation  with  the  magistrate;  and  finally  it  was  decided  that  Mr. 
Worth's  solemn  affirmation  should  be  accepted  in  lieu  of  an 
oath. 

"I  am  sorry,"  said  Ishmael  courteously,  "to  have  made  this 
difficulty  about  a  seemingly  small  matter;  but  in  truth,  no 
point  of  conscience  is  really  a  small  matter." 

"  Certainly  no,"  responded  the  magistrate. 

Ishmael  then  made  his  formal  affirmation,  and  gave  in  his 
testimony.  First  of  all  he  identified  the  negroes — Catherine 
Mortimer,  James  Mortimer,  and  Sarah  Sims — as  the  servants, 
first  of  Judge  Randolph  Merlin,  of  Maryland,  and  of  his  daugh 
ter  Claudia,  Lady  Vincent.  Then  he  testified  to  the  fact  of 
the  finding  of  the  negroes,  each  in  a  state  of  slavery,  in  the 
island  of  Cuba;  their  recovery  by  Judge  Merlin;  and  their  re 
turn,  in  his  company,  to  Scotland. 

At  the  conclusion  of  this  evidence  the  counsel  for  the  pris 
oners  made  some  sarcastic  remarks  about  the  reliability  of  the 
testimony  of  a  witness  who  refused  to  make  his  statement  upon 
oath;  but  he  was  sharply  rebuked  for  his  pains  by  the  magis 
trate. 

"Judge  Randolph  Merlin  will  please  to  come  forward,"  was 
the  next  order  of  the  clerk. 

"  I  have  no  conscientious  scruples  about  taking  an  oath, 
though  I  certainly  honor  the  scruples  of  others.  And  I  am 
ready  to  corroborate  upon  oath  the  testimony  of  the  last  wit 
ness,"  said  Judge  Merlin,  advancing  and  standing  before  the 
magistrate.  The  oath,  was  duly  administered  to  him,  and  he 
began  his  statement. 


395 

He  also  identified  the  three  negroes  as  his  own  family  serv 
ants,  who  were  transferred  to  his  daughter's  service  on  the  occa 
sion  of  her  marriage  with  Lord  Vincent,  and  who  were  taken 
by  her  to  Scotland.  He  likewise  testified  to  the  facts  of  finding 
the  three  negroes  in  the  city  of  Havana  in  a  condition  of 
slavery,  and  the  repurchasing  and  transporting  them  to  Scot 
land. 

The  counsel  for  the  accused  took  various  exceptions  to  the 
evidence  given  in  by  this  witness;  but  his  exceptions  were  set 
aside  by  the  magistrate  as  vexatious  and  immaterial. 

Then  he  cross-examined  the  witness  as  severely  as  if  the  case, 
instead  of  being  in  a  magistrate's  office,  were  before  the  Lords 
Commissioners  of  the  Assizes.  But  this  cross-examination  only 
had  the  effect  of  emphasizing  the  testimony  of  the  witness,  and 
impressing  the  facts  more  firmly  upon  the  mind  of  the  magis 
trate.  And  then,  as  the  counsel  could  make  nothing  by  perse 
verance  in  this  course,  he  permitted  the  witness  to  sit  down. 

"  Catherine  Mortimer  will  come  forward,"  said  the  clerk. 

"  That's  me !  I's  got  leabe  to  talk  at  last ! "  said  old  Katie, 
with  a  malignant  nod  at  the  accused.  And  she  stepped  up, 
folded  her  arms  upon  her  bosom,  threw  back  her  head,  and 
stood  with  an  air  of  conscious  importance  most  wonderful  to 
behold. 

"  Your  name  is  Catherine  Mortimer  ?  "  said  the  clerk. 

"Yes,  young  marse — yes,  honey,  dat  my  name — Catherine 
Mortimer.  Which  Catherine  were  the  name  giben  me  by  my 
sponsibles  in  baptism ;  and  Mortimer  were  de  name  'f erred  upon 
me  in  holy  matrimony  by  my  late  demented  'panion;  which  he 
was  de  coachman  to  ole  Comedy  Burghe,  as  fought  de  Brit 
ishers  in  the  war  of  eighteen  hundred  and  twelve." 

"  What  the  de'il  is  the  woman  talking  about  ? "  here  put  in 
the  magistrate. 

"  She  is  giving  testimony  in  this  case,"  sarcastically  an 
swered  the  counsel  for  the  accused. 

u  My  good  woman,  we  don't  want  to  hear  any  of  your  private 
history  previous  to  the  time  of  your  first  landing  on  these 
shores.  We  want  to  know  what  happened  since.  Your  name, 
you  say,  is  Catherine  Mortimer " 

"Hi,  young  marse,  what  I  tell  you?  Sure  it  is;  Catherine 
Mortimer,  'spectable  widder  'oman,  'cause  Mortimer,  poor  man, 
died  of  'sumption  when  he  was  'bout  forty-five  years  of  age, 
which  I  hab  libed  ebber  since  in  'spectable  widderhood.  and 


396        SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

wouldn't  like  to  see  de  man  as  would  hab  de  imperance  to  as 
me  to  change  my  condition,"  said  Katie,  rolling  herself  from 
side  to  side  in  the  restlessness  of  her  intense  self -consciousness. 

"  Catherine  Mortimer,  do  you  understand  the  nature  of  an 
oath  ? "  inquired  the  clerk. 

"  Hi,  young  marse,  what  should  'vent  me  ?  Where  you  think 
I  done  been  libbin  all  my  days  ?  You  mus'  think  how  I's  a  bar- 
barium  from' the  Stingy  Isles!"  replied  Katie  indignantly. 

"  I  ask  you — do  you  understand  the  nature  of  an  oath,  and 
I  require  you  to  give  a  straightforward  answer,"  said  the  clerk. 

"  And  I  think  it's  berry  'sultin'  in  you  to  ax  a  'spectable 
colored  'oman  any  such  question.  Do  I  understan'  de  natur' 
ob  an  oaf?  You  might  's  well  ax  me  if  I  knows  I's  got  a  mor 
tal  soul  to  be  save'!  Yes,  I  does  unnerstan'  de  natur*  ob  an 
oaf.  I  knows  how,  if  anybody  takes  a  false  one,  which  it  won't 
be  Catherine  Mortimer,  they'll  go  right  straight  down  to  de 
debbil — and  serbe  'em  right !  " 

"  Very  well,  then,"  said  the  clerk.  And  he  put  a  small  Bible 
into  her  hand  and  dictated  the  usual  oath,  which  she  repeated 
with  an  awful  solemnity  of  manner  that  must  have  carried  con 
viction  of  her  perfect  orthodoxy  to  the  minds  of  the  most  skep 
tical  cavilers. 

"Your  name,  you  say,  is  Catherine  Mortimer?"  said  the 
clerkj  as  if  requiring  her  to  repeat  this  fact  also  under  oath. 

The  repetition  of  the  question  nettled  Katie. 

"  My  good  g'acious  alibe,"  she  said,  "  what  I  tell  you  ?  You 
think  you  gwine  catch  me  in  a  lie  by  'peating  of  questions  ober 
and  ober  in  da.t  a  way  ?  Now  look  here,  young  marse,  I  aint  been 
tellin'  of  you  no  lies,  and  if  I  was  a-lying,  you  couldn't  catch 
me  dat  a  way,  'cause  I'se  got  too  good  a  membery,  dere!  So, 
now  I  tell  you  ag'in  my  name  is  Catherine  Mortimer,  and  like- 
\viee  it  aint  Gorilla,  as  my  lordship  and  his  shamwally  used  to 
call  me.  I  done  found  out  what  dat  means  now!  It  means 
monkey!  which  is  a  'fernally  false!  'cause  my  fambily  aint  got 
no  monkey  blood  in  'em.  'Dough  I'd  rather  be  a  monkey  dan 
a  lordship,  if  I  couldn't  be  no  better  lordship  den  some !  * 
said  Katie,  with  a  vindictive  nod  of  her  head  towards  the  vis 
count. 

"  What  is  the  creature  discoorsing  anent  ? "  inquired  the 
perplexed  magistrate. 

"  She  is  giving  in  her  evidence,"  replied  the  counsel  for  the 
accused. 


THE  VISCOUNT'S  FALL.  397 

a  You  dry  up !  Who's  you  ?  Mus'  be  my  lordship's  new 
shamwally  making  yourself  so  smart.  Reckon  I'll  give  evidence 
enough  to  fix  you  and  my  lordship  out !  "  snapped  Katie. 

"Now,  then,  tell  us  what  you  know  of  this  case,"  said  the 
derk. 

"  What  I  know  ob  dis  case  ?  Why,  in  de  f us'  place,  I  know  how 
my  lordship  dere — and  a  perty  lordship  he  is — and  de  oder  sham 
wally,  which  I  don't  see  here  present,  and  dat  whited  saltpeter, 
ought  ebery  single  one  ob  deni  to  be  hung  up  as  high  as  Harem. 
Dere !  dat  what  I  know ;  and  I  hope  you'll  do  it,  ole  marse  1 " 
said  Katie  vindictively. 

"  Whisht,  whisht,  my  good  woman !  Ye  are  no  here  to  pro 
nounce  judgment,  but  to  gi'e  testimony.  Confine  yoursel'  to 
the  facts !  "  said  the  magistrate. 

But  this  order  was  more  easily  made  than  obeyed.  It  was 
very  difficult  for  Katie  to  confine  herself  to  the  statement  of 
facts,  for  the  reason  that  she  seemed  to  imagine  herself  prose 
cutor,  witness,  judge,  jury,  and  executioner  all  rolled  into  one. 
It  took  all  the  tact  of  the  clerk  to  get  from  her  what  could  be 
received  as  purely  legal  evidence. 

Katie's  testimony  would  be  nothing  new  to  the  reader.  Her 
statement  under  oath  to  the  magistrate  was  the  same  in  effect 
that  she  had  made  to  Judge  Merlin.  And  although  it  was  ra 
ther  a  rambling  narrative,  mixed  up  with  a  good  deal  of  bitter 
invective  against  the  accused,  and  gratuitous  advice  to  the 
bench,  and  acute  suggestions  of  the  manner  of  retribution  that 
ought  to  be  measured  out  to  the  culprits,  yet  still  the  shrewd 
magistrate  managed  to  get  from  it  a  tolerably  clear  idea  of  the 
nature  of  the  conspiracy  formed  against  the  honor  of  Lady  Vin 
cent  and  the  motive  for  the  abduction  of  the  negroes.  And  al 
though  the  counsel  for  the  accused  labored  hard  to  get  this  evi 
dence  set  aside,  it  was  accepted  as  good. 

"  James  Mortimer,"  called  the  clerk. 

And  Jim  walked  forward  and  stood  respectfully  waiting 
to  be  examined. 

The  clerk,  after  putting  the  same  questions  to  Jim  that  he 
had  put  to  Jim's  mother,  and  receiving  the  most  satisfactory 
answers,  administered  the  usual  oath  and  proceeded  with  the 
examination. 

Jim  said  he  was  the  son  of  the  last  witness,  and  he  corrobo- 
•cated  the  statements  made  by  her,  as  far  as  his  own  personal 
corresponded  with  hers.  And  although  he  was  se- 


398        SELF-RAISED;  OB,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

verely  cross-examined,  he  never  varied  from  his  first  story,  and 
his  testimony  was  held  good. 

"  Sarah  Sims,"  was  the  next  called. 

And  Sally  advanced  modestly  and  stood  respectfully  before 
the  magistrate. 

Having  satisfactorily  answered  the  preliminary  questions 
that  were  put  to  her,  she  took  the  prescribed  oath  with  a  deep 
reverence  of  manner  that  prepossessed  everyone,  except  the  ac 
cused  and  their  counsel,  in  her  favor. 

And  then  she  gave  her  testimony  in  a  clear,  simple,  concise 
manner,  that  met  the  approval  of  all  who  heard  her.  The  coun 
sel  for  the  accused  cross-examined  her  with  ingenuity,  but 
without  success. 

Sally's  testimony  was  decidedly  the  most  conclusive  of  any 
given  by  the  three  negroes.  And  she  was  allowed  to  sit  down. 

Then  the  counsel  for  the  accused  arose  and  made  a  speech, 
in  which  he  ingeniously  sought  to  do  away  with  the  effect  of 
all  the  evidence  that  had  been  given  in  against  the  prisoners. 
He  took  exception  to  Ishmael's  evidence  because  Mr.  Worth 
had  declined  to  give  it  under  oath;  to  Judge  Merlin's,  because, 
he  said,  that  ancient  man  was  so  well  stricken  with  years  as 
to  be  falling  into  his  dotage;  to  old  Katie's,  because  most  de 
cidedly  he  declared  she  was  totally  tmreliable,  being  half 
monkey,  half  maniac,  and  whole  knave;  to  Jim's,  because  he 
averred  him  to  be  wholly  under  the  influence  of  others;  to 
Sally's,  for  the  same  reason.  It  would  be  monstrous,  he  said, 
to  send  a  nobleman  and  a  lady  to  trial  upon  such  evidence  as 
had  been  given  in  by  such  witnesses  as  had  appeared  there. 
And  he  ended  by  demanding  that  his  clients  should  be  instantly 
and  honorably  discharged  from  custody,  and  particularly  thai 
they  should  not  be  remanded. 

And  he  sat  down. 

"  Dinna  ye  fash  yersel',  laddie !  I  hae  na  the  least  intention 
to  remaund  the  accused.  I  s'all  commit  them  for  trial,"  said 
the  magistrate.  Then  looking  down  upon  his  clerk,  he  said: 

"Ross,  mon,  mak'  out  the  warrants." 

A  perfect  storm  of  remonstrance,  strange  to  witness  in  a 
magistrate's  office,  arose.  The  lawyer  sprang  upon  his  feet  and 
vehemently  opposed  the  committal.  Lord  Vincent  indignantly 
exclaimed  against  the  outrage  of  sending  a  nobleman  of  the 
house  of  Hurstmonceux  to  trial.  Faustina  went  into  hys* 
terics,  and  was  attended  by  Mrs.  MacDonald. 


THE  VISCOUNT'S  FALL.  399 

Meanwhile  the  clerk  coolly  made  out  the  warrants  and  placed 
them  in  the  hands  of  McRae  for  execution.  That  prompt  po 
liceman  proceeded  to  take  possession  of  his  prisoners.  But  the 
storm  increased;  Faustina's  screams  awoke  the  welkin;  Lord 
Vincent's  loud  denunciation  accompanied  her  in  bass  keys;  the 
lawyer's  wild  expostulations  and  gesticulations  arose  above  all. 

Sir  Alexander  had  borne  all  this  tempestuous  opposition  very 
patiently  at  first;  but  the  patience  of  the  most  long-suffering 
man  may  give  out.  Sir  Alexander's  did. 

"  McRae,  remove  the  prisoners.  And,  laddie,"  he  said  to  the 
denunciatory  lawyer,  "  gin  ye  dinna  haud  your  tongue,  I'll  com 
mit  yoursel'  for  contempt !  " 

Lord  Vincent,  seeing  that  all  opposition  must  be  worse  than 
vain,  quietly  yielded  the  point  and  followed  his  conductor.  But 
Faustina's  animal  nature  got  the  ascendency,  and  she  resisted, 
fought  and  screamed  like  a  wildcat.  It  took  half  a  dozen  po 
licemen  to  put  her  into  the  carriage,  and  then  the  handcuffs 
had  to  be  put  on  her. 

As  soon  as  quiet  was  restored  another  case  was  called  on. 
It  was  that  of  Frisbie,  the  ex-valet,  charged  with  the  murder 
of  Ailsie  Dunbar. 

CHAPTEK  XLVL 

THE  FATE  OF  THE  VISCOUNT. 

Oh,  vanity  of  youthful  blood, 
So  by  misuse  to  poison  good. 
Reason  awakes  and  views  unbarred 
The  sacred  gates  she  wished  to  guard, 
Sees  approach  the  harpy  law, 
And  Nemesis  beholds  with  awe, 
Beady  to  seize  the  poor  remains 
That  vice  has  left  of  nil  his  gains. 
Cold  penitence,  lame  after-thought, 
With  fear,  despair,  and  horror  fraught, 
Call  back  the  guilty  pleasures  dead, 
Whom  he  has  robbed  and  whom  betrayed  ! 

—Bishop  ffoacttey. 

When  the  carriage  containing  the  prisoners  reached  the  jail, 
they  were  taken  out  to  be  conducted  to  the  warden's  office.  The 
viscount,  who  was  in  a  mood  of  suppressed  fury,  was  attended 
by  Policeman  McEae  and  followed  by  old  Cuthbert,  broken 
hearted  by  the  dishonor  of  his  master. 

Faustina,  who  had  raged  herself  into  a  atate  of  exhaustion 


400         SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

and  consequently  of  quietude,  was  attended  by  policeman 
Christie  and  supported  by  Mrs.  MacDonald  who  tenderly 
soothed  and  flattered  her. 

It  was  a  busy  day  in  the  warden's  office,  and  the  warden  had 
but  little  time  to  bestow  on  these  interesting  prisoners. 

"  And  sae  they  ha'e  committed  ye  for  trial,  me  laird,  mair'a 
the  pity;  and  the  puir  lassie  too;  me  heart  is  sair  for  her,"  said 
Auld  Saundie  Gra'ame,  as  they  were  led  up  to  his  desk  to  have 
their  names  re-entered  upon  the  prison-books. 

"  It  was  a  most  unwarrantable  proceeding !  a  monstrous  abuse 
of  office !  an  outrage  that  should  be  punished  by  immediate  im 
peachment  ! "  burst  forth  the  viscount,  in  a  fury. 

"  As  to  that,  me  laird,  I  ha'e  never  yet  seen  the  prisoner 
enter  these  wa's  wi'  ony  verra  great  esteem  for  the  authorities 
that  sent  him  here,"  dryly  replied  Auld  Saundie. 

Then  turning  to  an  under-warden  he  said : 

"Ye'll  convey  the  prisoners  back  to  the  cells  occupied  by 
them  before." 

And  Faustina  was  carried  back  to  the  woman's  ward,  fol 
lowed  by  the  sympathizing  Mrs.  MacDonald,  who  promised  to 
remain  with  her  until  the  hour  of  closing  up. 

And  the  viscount,  attended  by  Cuthbert,  was  conducted  to  his 
corner  cell,  there  to  abide  until  the  day  of  trial. 

Old  Cuthbert  remained  with  his  master  until  he  was  sum 
moned  to  drive  Mrs.  MacDonald  back  to  the  castle. 

Several  days  passed.  Every  morning  Mrs.  MacDonald,  driven 
by  Cuthbert  in  the  family  carriage,  came  to  town,  to  spend  the 
day  in  the  cell  with  Faustina,  while  Cuthbert  remained  in 
attendance  upon  the  viscount.  And  every  evening  she  returned 
to  the  castle. 

The  Earl  of  Hurstmonceux  did  not  come.  But  news  at 
length  came  of  him.  His  bankers  wrote  that  he  was  out  on 
his  yacht,  his  exact  latitude  being  unknown. 

Lord  Vincent,  now  that  he  was  fully  committed  for  trial, 
really  did  not  seem  to  be  anxious  for  his  father's  return.  Per 
haps  he  would  rather  not  have  met  the  earl  under  the  present 
circumstances.  He  held  daily  consultations  with  his  counsel. 
These  were  entirely  confidential.  Being  assured  by  Mr.  Bruce 
that  it  was  essentially  necessary  the  counsel  should  be  in  posses 
sion  of  all  the  facts,  the  prisoner  made  a  tolerably  clean  breast 
of  it,  at  least  so  far  as  the  abduction  of  the  negroes  was  con~ 
corned;  he  exercised  some  little  reticence  in  the  matters  of  his 


THE  FATE  OF  THE  VISCOUNT.         401 

relations  with  Faustina  and  his  conspiracy  against  Lady  Vin 
cent. 

Mr.  Bruce  of  course  put  the  fairest  construction  upon  every 
thing;  but  still  he  could  not  help  feeling  the  darkest  misgivings 
as  to  the  result  of  the  approaching  trial.  And  the  viscount, 
rendered  keenly  observant  by  intense  anxiety,  detected  these 
doubts  in  the  mind  of  his  counsel,  and  became  daily  more  de 
spairing. 

He  looked  forward  to  the  dishonor  of  a  public  trial  witk 
burning  indignation;  to  the  possible,  nay  probable,  conviction 
and  sentence  that  might  follow  with  shrinking  dread,  and  to 
the  execution  of  that  sentence  with  stony  horror. 

Penal  servitude!  Great  Heaven!  penal  servitude  for  him, 
*o  high-born,  so  fastidious,  so  luxurious  in  all  his  habits !  Penal 
servitude  for  him,  the  Viscount  Vincent! 

He  had  often  made  one  of  a  party  of  sight-seers,  visiting  the 
prisons,  the  hulks,  the  quarries,  where  the  prisoners  were  con 
fined  at  work.  He  had  seen  them  in  the  coarse  prison  garb, 
working  in  chains,  under  the  broiling  sun  of  summer,  and  un 
der  the  bitter  cold  of  winter.  He  had  seen  them  at  their  loath 
some  meals  and  in  their  stifling  sleeping  pens.  He  had  gazed 
upon  them  with  eyes  of  haughty,  cold,  unsympathizing  curi 
osity.  To  him  and  his  friends  they  formed  but  a  spectacle  of 
interest  or  amusement,  like  a  drama. 

And  now  to  think  that  he  might,  nay,  probably  would,  soon 
make  one  of  their  shameful  number!  The  Viscount  Vincent 
working  in  chains ;  gazed  at  by  his  former  companions ;  pointed 
out  to  curious  strangers!  That  was  the  appalling  picture  for 
ever  present  to  his  imagination. 

How  bitterly  he  deplored  the  crimes  that  had  exposed  him  to 
this  fate.  How  deeply  he  cursed  the  siren  whose  fatal  beauty 
had  lured  him  to  sin.  How  passionately  he  longed  for  death,  as 
the  only  deliverance  from  the  memory  of  the  past,  the  terrors  of 
the  present,  the  horrors  of  the  future.  Day  and  night  that 
appalling  future  stared  him  in  the  face.  Day  and  night  the 
picture  of  himself  working  in  chains,  pointed  out,  stared  at, 
was  before  his  mind's  eyes. 

By  day  it  obtruded  between  him  and  the  face  of  any  visitor 
that  might  be  with  him.  Even  when  in  consultation  with  his 
counsel  his  mind  would  wander  from  the  subject  in  hand,  and 
his  imagination  would  be  drawn  away  to  the  contemplation  of 
that  dread  picture- 


402  SELF-RAISED  J   OB,    FROM   THE   DEPTHS. 

By  night  it  would  rise  up  in  the  darkness  and  nearly  driye 
him  mad. 

He  could  not  eat,  he  could  not  sleep.  He  passed  his  days  in 
pacing  to  and  fro  in  his  narrow  cell,  and  his  nights  in  tossing 
about  upon  his  restless  bed.  His  sufferings  were  pitiable,  and 
his  worst  enemy  must  have  felt  sorry  for  him. 

His  condition  moved  the  compassion  of  the  warden,  and 
every  indulgence  that  was  in  the  power  of  old  Saundie  to  be 
stow  was  granted  to  him.  And  as  he  was  not  yet  absolutely 
convicted,  but  only  waiting  his  trial,  these  indulgences  were 
considerable.  Old  Cuthbert  was  allowed  to  visit  him  freely 
during  the  day,  and  to  bring  him  anything  in  the  way  of  food, 
drink,  clothing,  books,  stationery,  etc.,  that  he  required.  And 
very  little  supervision  was  exercised  over  these  matters. 

Meantime  as  the  Assizes  were  sitting,  and  the  docket  was  not 
very  full,  it  was  thought  that  the  trial  would  soon  come  on. 

On  the  Wednesday  following  the  committal  of  the  viscount 
the  trial  of  the  murderer,  Frisbie,  which  stood  before  that  of 
his  master  on  the  docket,  did  come  on.  The  detective  police 
had  been  busy  during  the  interval  between  Frisbie's  arrest  and 
arraignment,  and  they  had  succeeded  in  collecting  a  mass  of 
evidence  and  a  number  of  witnesses  besides  old  Katie. 

Frisbie,  however,  was  defended  by  the  best  counsel  that  mere 
money  could  procure.  There  are  many  among  the  best  lawyers 
who  will  not  take  up  a  bad  case  at  any  price.  But  Frisbie,  as 
I  said,  had  the  best  among  the  unscrupulous  that  money  could 
buy.  His  master  of  course  paid  the  fees.  His  counsel  very 
gratuitously  instructed  him  to  plead  "  Not  Guilty,"  and  of 
course  he  did  plead  "Not  Guilty."  And  his  counsel  did  the 
best  thing  they  could  to  establish  his  innocence.  But  the  evi 
dence  against  him  was  conclusive.  And  on  the  morning  of  the 
second  day  of  his  trial  Frisbie  was  found  guilty  and  sentenced 
to  death.  But  a  short  period  between  sentence  and  execution 
•was  then  allowed  in  Scotland.  The  execution  of  Frisbie  wa» 
fixed  for  the  Monday  following  his  conviction. 

From  the  hour  that  Frisbie  had  been  brought  to  trial  the  vis 
count  had  experienced  the  most  vehement  accession  of  anxiety. 
He  refused  all  food  during  the  day,  and  he  paced  the  floor  of  his 
cell  all  night.  And  well  he  might;  for  he  knew  that  on  that 
trial  revelations  would  be  made  under  oath  that  would  not  tend 
to  whiten  Lord  Vincent's  character. 

On  Thursday  noon  Mr.  Bruce  entered  his  cell. 


THE   FATE   OF  THE   VISCOUNT.  403 

"Is  the  trial "  began  the  viscount;  but  he  could  not  get 

on;  his  intense  emotion  choked  him. 

"  The  trial  is  over;  the  jury  brought  in  their  verdict  half 
an  hour  ago,"  replied  the  counsel  gravely. 

"  And  Frisbie  is For  Heaven's  sake  speak !  "  gasped  the 

viscount. 

"  Frisbie  is  convicted !  "  said  the  lawyer. 

Lord  Vincent,  pale  before,  turned  paler  still  as  he  sank  into 
the  chair  and  gazed  upon  the  lawyer,  who  was  greatly  wonder 
ing  at  the  excessive  emotion  of  his  client. 

"When  is  the  execution  fixed  to  take  place?" 

"  On  Monday,  of  course." 

"  Is  there — can  there  be  any  hope  of  a  pardon  for  him  ? " 

"Not  the  shadow  of  a  hope." 

"  Or — of  a  commutation  of  his  sentence  ? " 

"  It  is  madness  to  think  of  it." 

"  Is  there  no  chance  of  a  respite  ? K 

"  I  tell  you  it  is  madness,  and  worse  than  madness,  to  imag 
ine  such  a  thing  as  a  pardon,  a  commutation,  or  even  a  respite 
for  that  wretch.  The  crime  brought  home  to  him  was  one  of 
the  darkest  dye — the  base  assassination  of  the  girl  that  loved 
and  trusted  and  was  true  to  him.  To  fancy  any  mercy  possible 
for  that  miscreant,  except  it  be  the  infinite,  all-embracing,  all- 
pardoning  mercy  of  God,  is  simply  frenzy." 

"  And  the  execution  is  to  take  place  on  Monday.  The  time 
is  very  short,"  said  the  viscount,  falling  into  a  reverie. 

The  lawyer  began  to  speak  of  the  viscount's  own  affairs;  he 
mentioned  several  circumstances  connected  with  the  viscount's 
case  that  had  become  known  to  himself  only  through  the  testi 
mony  of  certain  witnesses  on  Frisbie's  trial,  and  he  wished  to 
consult  the  viscount  upon  them. 

But  Lord  Vincent  seemed  to  act  very  strangely;  he  was  ab 
sent-minded,  stupid,  distracted — in  fact  altogether  unfit  for 
consultation  with  his  counsel. 

And  so,  after  a  few  unsuccessful  attempts  to  rouse  him,  gain 
his  attention,  and  fix  it  upon  the  subject  at  issue,  the  lawyer 
arose,  said  that  he  would  call  again  the  next  morning,  and 
bowed  and  left  the  cell. 

The  shame  the  viscount  suffered  was  in  the  knowledge  of  the 
dishonorable  facts  relating  to  himself  that  had  been  brought 
to  light  on  Frisbie's  trial;  the  great  dread  he  felt  was  that 
Frisbie,  at  the  near  approach  of  death,  would  open  his  heart 


404        SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

and  make  a  full  confession;  and  liis  horrible  certainty  was  that 
such  a  confession  was  all  that  was  wanted  to  ensure  his  own 
conviction. 

Again  on  this  Thursday  night  he  could  not  sleep,  but  paced 
the  narrow  limits  of  his  cell  the  whole  night  through,  in  un 
utterable  agony  of  mind.  Never  was  the  appalling  vision  of 
himself  in  the  shameful  prison  garb,  working  in  chains,  pointed 
out  as  an  interesting  object  and  gazed  at  by  curious  strangers, 
so  awfully  vivid  as  upon  this  night. 

The  next  morning,  when  his  old  servant  Cuthbert  entered  the 
cell  as  usual,  he  was  frightened  at  his  master's  dreadful  looks. 

"  Will  I  call  a  doctor  to  your  lairdship  ? "  inquired  the  old 
man. 

"  No,  Cuthbert ;  I  am  not  ill.  I  am  only  suffering  for  want  of 
rest.  I  have  not  been  able  to  sleep  since  Frisbie's  arraignment. 
He  is  convicted,  you  know." 

"  Aye,  me  laird,  I  ken  a'  anent  it.  My  brither  Randy  was  on 
the  jury,  and  he  tauld  me  it  a'  ower  a  pot  o'  ale  in  the  taproom 
o'  the  '  Highlander,'  where  I  was  resting  while  my  horses  fed," 
said  the  old  man  gravely. 

A  dark,  crimson  flush  overspread  the  face  of  the  viscount. 
Cuthbert  had  heard  all  about  it.  Cuthbert  had  heard,  then, 
those  disgraceful  revelations  concerning  himself.  He  need  not 
have  blushed  before  Cuthbert.  That  loyal-hearted  old  servant 
could  not  have  been  brought  to  believe  such  evil  of  his  beloved 
young  master,  as  all  that  came  to.  And  his  next  words  proved 
this. 

"  There  must  'a'  been  a  deal  o'  f  ause  swearing,  me  laird," 
he  said. 

The  viscount  looked  up  and  caught  at  the  words. 

"  Yes,  Cuthbert,  a  great  deal  of  false  swearing,  indeed,  as  far 
as  I  am  concerned,  in  that  testimony." 

"  Aye,  me  laird !  I  tauld  them  so  in  the  taproom.  There  was 
a  wheen  idle  loons  collected  there,  drinking  and  smoking  and 
talking  anent  the  business  o'  their  betters.  And  they  were  a' 
unco'  free  in  their  comments.  But  when  they  mentioned  your 
lairdship's  name  in  connection  wi'  sic  infamy,  I  tauld  them  a' 
weel  that  they  were  a  pack  o'  fause  knaves  to  believe  sic 
lees." 

"Yes.  The  execution  is  to  take  place  on  Monday  morning, 
Cuthbert." 

"Aye,  me  laird.    I  hope  the  puir,  sinfu'  lad  will  mak'  guid 


THE  FATE  OF  THE  VISCOUNT.         405 

use  o'  the  short  time  left  him  and  repent  o'  a'  his  misdeeds,  and 
seek  his  peace  wi'  his  Maker,"  said  the  old  man  solemnly. 

The  viscount  heaved  a  heavy  sigh;  a  sigh  that  seemed  laden 
with  a  weight  of  agony. 

"  Cuthbert,"  he  said,  "  you  know  that  I  may  not  go  to  see 
the  condemned  man,  being  a  prisoner  myself;  but  you,  being  a 
fellow-servant,  and  at  liberty,  may  be  permitted  to  do  so.  I 
wish  to  charge  you  with  a  note  to  deliver  to  him;  but  you  must 
deliver  it  secretly,  Cuthbert;  secretly,  mind  you." 

"  Yes,  me  laird." 

The  viscount  sat  down  to  his  little  table  and  wrote  the  fol 
lowing  note: 

"  Frisbie :  While  there  is  life  there  is  hope ;  therefore  make 
no  confession;  for  if  you  do,  that  confession  will  destroy  your 
last  possibility  of  pardon  or  commutation. 

"  Vincent." 

He  folded  and  sealed  this  note  and  delivered  it  to  Cuthbert, 
saying : 

"  Conceal  it  somewhere  about  your  person,  and  go  to  the 
warden's  office  and  ask  leave  to  see  your  old  fellow-servant, 
and  no  doubt  you  will  get  it.  And  when  you  see  him  deliver 
this  note  secretly,  as  I  told  you." 

"  Verra  weel,  me  laird,''  said  the  old  man,  going  and  knocking 
on  the  door  of  the  cell  to  be  let  out.  The  turnkey  opened  the 
door,  released  him,  and  locked  it  again.  And  the  viscount,  left 
alone,  paced  up  and  down  the  floor  in  unutterable  distress  of 
mind.  An  hour  passed  and  then  Cuthbert  re-entered  the  cell, 
wearing  a  frightened  visage. 

"Well,  Cuthbert,  well!  did  you  find  an  opportunity  of  de 
livering  the  note  ?  " 

"  Yes,  me  laird,  I  did,"  said  the  old  man  hesitatingly. 

"Secretly?" 

"Y-yes,  me  laird!" 

The  viscount  looked  relieved  of  a  great  fear.  He  saw  the  great 
disturbance  of  his  servant's  face ,  but  ascribed  it  to  the  effect  of 
his  interview  with  the  condemned  man,  and  sympathy  for  his 
awful  position,  and  he  inquired : 

"How  did  Frisbie  look,  Cuthbert?" 

"  Like  a  ghaist ;  na  less !  pale  as  deeth ;  trembling  like  a  leaf 
about  to  fa' !  and  waef ully  distraught  in  his  mind !  " 


406         SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

"Did  he  get  an  opportunity  of  reading  my  note  while  you 
were  with  him  ?  " 

"  Oh,  me  laird,  I  maun  just  tell  you !  I  hope  there  was  na 
ony  great  secret  in  that  same  note." 

The  viscount  started  and  stared  wildly  at  the  speaker,  but 
then  everything  alarmed  Lord  Vincent  now. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  he  asked : 

"  Oh,  me  laird !  I  watched  my  opportunity,  and  I  gi'e  him 
the  note  in  secrecy,  as  your  lairdship  tauld  me;  and  I  stooped 
and  whispered  till  him  in  his  lugs  to  keep  the  note  till  he  was 
his  lane,  and  read  it  then.  But  the  doitted  fule,  gude  forgi'e 
me,  didna  seem  to  compreheend;  but  was  loike  ane  dazed.  He 
just  lookit  at  me  and  then  proceeded  to  open  the  note  before 
my  face.  Whereupon  the  turnkey  lad  takit  it  out  fra  his  hand, 
saying  that  the  prisoner,  being  a  condemned  man,  maunna 
receive  ony  faulded  paper  that  hadna  passit  under  the  obser 
vation  of  the  governor,  because  sic  faulded  packets  might  con 
tain  strychnine  or  other  subtle  poison.  And  sae  he  took  pos 
session  o'  your  note,  me  laird,  before  the  prisoner  could  read  a 
word  of  it;  and  said  he  maun  carry  it  to  the  governor  whilk 
I  suppose  he  did." 

To  see  the  consternation  of  the  viscount  was  dreadful. 

"  Oh,  Cuthbert,  Cuthbert,  the  cowardice  of  that  miserable 
wretch  will  ruin  me !  "  he  exclaimed  bitterly. 

"  Oh,  me  laird,  dinna  rail  at  the  puir  sinfu'  soul  for  cow 
ardice.  Sure  mesel'  would  be  a  coward  gin  I  had  the  waefu' 
woodie  before  my  ees.  'Deed,  me  laird,  and  me  heart  is  sair 
for  the  mischance  o'  the  note." 

"  It  cannot  be  mended  now,  Cuthbert." 

The  time  was  drawing  near  for  the  closing  of  the  prison 
doors,  and  the  old  man  took  a  dutiful  leave  of  his  master  and 
departed. 

On  his  way  downstairs  he  was  called  into  the  warden's  office,\ 
and  while  there  he  was  severely  reprimanded  for  conveying  let 
ters  to  the  convict,  and  forbidden  under  pain  of  punishment  to 
repeat  the  offense.  The  old  man  bore  the  rebuke  very  patiently, 
and  at  the  lecture  that  was  bestowed  upon  him  he  humbly 
bowed  and  took  his  leave. 

This  night  the  viscount,  exhausted  by  long  vigilance  and 
fasting  and  by  intense  anxiety,  threw  himself  upon  his  bed 
and  slept  for  a  few  hours.  The  next  morning,  Saturday,  in  his 
restless  trouble  he  arose  early.  And  in  the  course  of  the  day  he 


THE   FATE   OF   THE   VISCOUNT.  407 

questioned  everyone  who  came  into  his  cell  concerning  the  state 
of  mind  of  the  condemned  man. 

Some  could  give  him  no  news  at  all;  others  could  tell  him 
something;  but  they  differed  in  their  accounts  of  Frisbie — one 
saying  that  he  had  asked  for  the  prison  chaplain,  who  had  gone 
in  to  him;  a  second  that  he  was  very  contrite;  a  third  that  he 
was  only  terribly  frightened;  a  fourth  that  he  was  as  firm  as  a 
rock,  declined  to  confess  his  guilt  and  persisted  in  declaring  his 
innocence.  The  viscount  endeavored  to  believe  the  last  state 
ment. 

The  miserable  day  passed  without  bringing  anything  more 
satisfactory  to  Lord  Vincent.  And  the  night  that  followed  was 
a  sleepless  one  to  him. 

Sunday  came ;  the  last  day  of  life  that  was  left  to  the  wretched 
valet.  On  Sunday  it  was  obligatory  upon  all  the  prisoners 
confined  in  that  jail  to  attend  divine  service  in  the  prison 
chapel.  They  had  no  choice  in  this  matter;  unless  they  were 
confined  to  their  beds  by  illness  they  were  obliged  to  go. 

On  this  particular  Sunday  no  prisoner  felt  disposed  to  place 
himself  on  the  sick  list.  Quite  the  contrary.  For,  on  the  other 
hand,  many  prisoners  who  were  really  ill,  in  the  infirmary,  de 
clared  themselves  well  enough  to  get  up  and  go  to  chapel. 

The  reason  of  their  sudden  zeal  in  the  performance  of  their 
religious  duties  was  simply  this:  The  "condemned  sermon," 
as  it  was  called,  was  to  be  preached  that  day.  And  the  con 
demned  man,  who  was  to  be  executed  in  the  morning,  was  to 
be  present  under  guard.  And  people  generally  have  a  morbid 
curiosity  to  gaze  upon  a  man  who  is  doomed  to  death. 

Lord  Vincent  was  ill  enough  to  be  exempt  from  the  duty  of 
appearing  in  the  chapel,  and  haughty  enough  to  recoil  from  mix 
ing  publicly  with  his  fellow-prisoners;  but  he  was  intensely 
anxious  to  see  Frisbie  and  judge  for  himself,  from  the  man's 
appearance,  whether  he  seemed  likely  to  make  a  confession. 

And  so,  when  the  turnkey  whose  duty  it  was  to  attend  tc 
this  ward  came  around  to  unlock  the  doors  and  marshal  the  pris 
oners  in  order  to  march  them  to  the  chapel,  Lord  Vincent,  with 
out  demur,  fell  into  rank  and  went  with  them. 

The  chapel  was  small,  and  the  prisoners  present  on  this  day 
filled  it  full.  The  set  to  which  Lord  Vincent  belonged  were 
marched  in  among  the  last.  Consequently  they  sat  at  the  lower 
end  of  the  chapel. 

Lord  Vincent's  height  enabled  him  to  look  over  the  heads  of 


408         SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

most  persons  present.  And  he  looked  around  for  Frisbie.  At 
length  he  found  him. 

The  condemned  pew  was  immediately  before  the  pulpit,  fac 
ing  the  preacher.  In  it  sat  Frisbie,  unfettered,  but  guarded  by 
two  turnkeys,  one  of  whom  sat  on  each  side  of  him.  But  Fris- 
bie's  back  was  towards  Lord  Vincent,  and  so  the  viscount  could 
not  possibly  get  a  glimpse  of  the  expression  of  his  face. 

He  next  looked  to  see  if  he  could  find  the  selfish  vixen  who 
had  lured  him  to  his  ruin,  and  whom  he  now  hated  with  all  the 
power  of  hatred  latent  in  his  soul.  But  a  partition  eight  feet 
high,  running  nearly  the  whole  length  of  the  chapel  and  stop 
ping  only  within  a  few  feet  of  the  pulpit,  separated  the  women's 
from  the  men's  side  of  the  church,  so  that  even  if  she  had  been 
present  he  could  not  have  seen  her. 

"  The  wages  of  sin  is  death." 

Such  was  the  text  from  which  the  sermon  was  preached  to 
the  prisoners  that  day.  But  the  viscount  heard  scarcely  one 
word  of  it.  Intensely  absorbed  in  his  own  reflections,  he  paid 
no  attention  to  the  services.  At  their  close  he  bent  his  eyes 
again  upon  the  form  of  Frisbie. 

His  perseverance  was  rewarded.  As  they  arose  to  leave 
the  chapel  Frisbie  also  arose  and  turned  around.  And  the  vis 
count  got  a  full  view  of  his  face — a  pale,  wild,  despairing  face. 

"  He  is  desperately  frightened,  if  he  is  not  penitent.  That 
is  the  face  of  a  man  who,  in  the  forlorn  hope  of  saving  his  life, 
•will  deny  his  guilt  until  the  rope  is  around  his  neck,  and  then, 
in  the  forlorn  hope  of  saving  his  soul,  confess  his  crime  under 
the  gallows,"  said  the  viscount  to  himself,  as  he  was  marched 
back  to  his  cell. 

In  that  the  viscount  wronged  Frisbie.  The  great  adversary 
himself  is  said  to  be  not  so  black  as  he  is  painted. 

That  same  night,  that  last  solemn  night  of  the  criminal's 
life,  the  prison  chaplain  stayed  with  the  wretched  man.  Mr. 
Godfree  was  a  fervent  Christian;  one  whose  faith  could  move 
mountains;  one  who  would  never  abandon  a  soul,  however  sin 
ful,  to  sink  into  perdition  while  that  soul  remained  in  its  mortal 
tenement.  Such  men  seem  to  have  a  Christ-conferred  power 
to  save  to  the  uttermost. 

He  kept  close  to  Frisbie;  he  would  not  permit  himself  to  be 
discouraged  by  the  sinfulness,  the  cowardice,  and  the  utter 
baseness  of  the  poor  wretch.  He  pitied  him,  talked  to  him, 
prayed  with  him. 


THE  PATE  OF  THE  VISCOUNT.         409 

With  all  his  deep  criminality  Frisbie  was  certainly  not  hard 
ened.  He  listened  to  the  exhortations  of  the  chaplain,  he  wept 
bitterly,  and  joined  in  the  prayers.  And  in  the  silence  of  that 
night  he  made  a  full  confession  to  the  chaplain,  with  the  re 
quest  that  it  might  be  made  public  the  next  day. 

He  confessed  the  murder  of  Ailsie  Dunbar;  but  he  denied 
that  the  crime  had  been  premeditated,  as  it  had  been  made  to 
appear  at  the  trial.  He  killed  her  in  a  fit  of  passion,  he  said; 
and  he  had  never  known  an  hour's  peace  since.  Remorse  for 
the  crime  and  terror  for  its  consequences  had  made  his  life 
wretched.  His  master,  Lord  Vincent,  he  said,  had  been  an 
eye-witness  to  the  murder;  but  had  withheld  himself  from  de- 
Bouncing  him,  because  he  wanted  to  uco  the  power  he  had  thus 
obtained  to  compel  him  to  enter  a  conspiracy  against  Lady 
Vincent.  And  here  followed  a  full  account  of  the  plot  and  its 
execution. 

Frisbie  went  on  to  say  that  nothing  but  the  terrors  of  death 
induced  him  to  become  a  party  to  that  base  conspiracy  against 
the  honor  of  a  noble  lady,  and  that  he  had  suffered  almost  as 
much  remorse  for  his  crimes  against  Lady  Vincent  as  for  his 
murder  of  Ailsie  Dunbar. 

All  this  Mr.  Godfree  took  down  in  short-hand  from  the  lips 
of  the  conscience-stricken  man. 

And  then,  as  Frisbie  expressed  the  desire  to  spend  the  re 
mainder  of  the  night  in  devotion,  Mr.  Godfree  decided  to  re 
main  with  him.  He  read  aloud  to  the  convict  portions  of 
Scripture  suited  to  his  sad  case;  he  prayed  fervently  with  him 
for  the  pardon  of  his  sins ;  and  then  he  sang  for  him  a  consoling 
hymn. 

Oh,  strangely  sounded  that  sacred  song  arising  in  the  deep 
silence  of  the  condemned  cell.  So  the  night  passed  there. 

But  how  did  it  pass  in  the  viscount's  cell?  Sleeplessly, 
anxiously,  wretchedly,  until  long  after  midnight,  when  he  fell 
asleep.  He  was  awakened  by  a  sound  of  sawing,  dragging,  and 
hammering,  that  seemed  to  be  in  the  prison  yard  beneath  his 
windows.  It  continued  a  long  time,  and  effectually  banished 
slumber  from  his  weary  eyes. 

What  could  they  be  doing  at  that  unusual  hour?  he  asked 
himself.  And  he  crept  from  his  bed  and  peeped  through  the 
grated  window.  But  the  night  was  over-clouded  a-nd  deeply 
dark  from  that  darkness  that  precedes  the  dawn  He  could 
see  nothing,  but  he  could  hear  the  sound  of  voices  amid  the 


410        SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

noise  of  work;  although  the  words,  at  the  distance  his  window 
was  from  the  ground,  were  inaudible. 

He  lay  down  again  no  wiser  than  he  had  risen  up.  After 
an  hour  or  two  the  noise  ceased,  and  he  dropped  into  that  sleep 
of  prostration  that  more  resembles  worn-out  nature's  swooning 
than  healthy  slumber. 


CHAPTER  XLVII. 

THE  EXECUTION. 

What  shall  he  be,  ere  night? — Perchance  a  thing 
O'er  which  the  raveii  flaps  her  funeral  wing. 

— Byron, 

It  was  broad  daylight  when  the  viscount  was  again  awakened, 
and  this  time  by  the  solemn  tolling  of  the  prison  bell.  He 
sprang  out  of  bed  and  looked  out  of  the  window  and  recoiled 
in  horror.  There  in  the  angle  of  the  prison  yard  stood  the  gal 
lows,  grimly  painted  black.  That  was  what  the  carpenters  had 
been  at  work  on  all  night. 

And  the  tolling  of  the  prison  bell  warned  him  that  the  last 
hour  of  the  condemned  man  had  come;  that  he  was  even  now 
leaving  his  cell  for  the  gallows.  Lord  Vincent  staggered  back 
and  fell  upon  his  bed.  In  the  fate  of  Frisbie  he  seemed  to  feel 
a  forewarning  of  the  certain  retribution  that  was  lying  in  wait 
for  himself. 

There  came  a  sound  of  footsteps  along  the  passage.  They 
paused  before  his  cell.  Someone  unlocked  the  door.  And,  to 
the  viscount's  astonishment,  the  procession  that  was  on  its 
way  to  the  gallows  entered  his  presence.  There  was  Frisbie, 
still  unbound,  but  guarded  by  a  half  a  dozen  policemen  and  turn 
keys,  and  attended  by  the  undersheriff  of  the  county,  and  the 
warden  and  the  chaplain  of  the  prison. 

Lord  Vincent  stared  in  astonishment,  wondering  what  brought 
them  there;  but  he  found  no  words  in  which  to  put  the  ques 
tion. 

The  chaplain  constituted  himself  the  spokesman  of  the  party. 

"My  lord,  this  unhappy  man  wishes  to  see  you  before  he 
dies;  and  the  sheriff  has  kindly  accorded  him  the  privilege," 
said  Mr.  Godfree. 

Lord  Vincent  looked  from  the  chaplain  to  the  prisoner  in 


THE   EXECUTION.  411 

perplexity  and  terror.  What  could  the  condemned  man,  in  the 
last  hour  of  his  life,  want  with  him? 

Frisbie  spoke : 

"My  lord,  I  am  a  dying  man;  but  I  could  not  meet  death 
with  guilty  secrets  on  my  soul.  My  lord,  I  have  told  every 
thing,  the  whole  truth  about  the  death  of  poor  Ailsie,  and  the 
plot  against  my  lady.  I  could  not  help  it,  my  lord.  I  could  not 
leave  the  world  with  such  wrong  unrighied  behind  me.  I  could 
not  so  face  my  Creator.  I  have  come  to  tell  you  this,  my  lord, 
and  ask  you  to  forgive  me  if,  in  doing  this,  I  have  been  com 
pelled  to  do  you  harm,"  said  the  man,  speaking  humbly,  depre- 
catingly,  almost  affectionately. 

"  God  forgive  you,  Frisbie,  but  you  have  ruined  me ! "  was 
the  somewhat  strange  reply  of  the  viscount,  as  he  turned  away; 
for  it  seemed  to  those  who  heard  him  that  he  was  asking  the 
Lord  to  forgive  the  sinner,  not  for  his  sins,  but  for  his  confes 
sion  of  them. 

The  procession  of  death  left  the  cell;  the  door  was  locked', 
and  the  viscount  was  alone  again — alone,  and  in  utter,  irreme 
diable  despair. 

He  sat  upon  the  side  of  the  bed,  his  hands  clasped  and  his 
chin  dropped  upon  his  breast  until  the  bell  of  the  prison  chapel 
suddenly  ceased  to  toll.  Then  he  looked  up.  It  was  all  over. 
The  judicial  tragedy  had  been  enacted.  And  he  arose  and  went 
to  the  grated  window  and  looked  out. 

No,  oh,  Heaven,  it  was  not  all  over!  That  group  around  the 
foot  of  the  gallows;  that  cart  and  empty  coffin;  that  shrouded 
and  bound  figure,  convulsed  and  swaying  in  the  air — blasted  his 
sight.  With  a  loud  cry  he  dashed  his  hand  up  to  his  eyes  to  shut 
out  the  horrible  vision,  and  fell  heavily  upon  the  floor.  He  lay 
there  as  one  dead  until  the  turnkey  brought  his  breakfast. 
Then  he  got  up  and  threw  himself  upon  the  bed.  He  eagerly 
drank  the  coffee  that  was  brought  to  him,  for  his  throat  was 
parched  and  burning;  but  he  could  not  swallow  a  mouthful  of 
solid  food. 

"  Bring  me  the  afternoon  paper  as  soon  as  it  is  out,"  he  said 
to  the  turnkey,  at  the  same  time  handing  him  a  half-crown. 
The  man  bowed  in  silence  and  took  his  breakfast  tray  from  the 
table  and  withdrew. 

For  some  reason  or  other,  perhaps  from  the  fear  of  coming 
in  contact  with  the  preparations  for  the  execution,  Mrs.  Mac- 
Donald  did  not  present  herself  at  the  prison  until  nearly  nooru 


412        SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

So  that  the  prison  clock  was  actually  on  the  stroke  of  twelve 
when  old  Cuthbert  was  admitted  to  his  master's  cell.  On  en 
tering  and  beholding  his  master,  the  old  man  started  and  ex 
claimed  in  affright: 

"  Gude  guide  us,  me  laird,  what  has  come  over  ye  ? " 

"Nothing,  Cuthbert,  but  want  of  rest.  What  is  that  you 
have  in  your  hand  ?  " 

"  The  evening  paper,  me  laird,  that  ane  o'  the  lads  gi'e  me 
to  bring  your  lairdship." 

"  Have  you  looked  at  it  ? "  demanded  the  viscount  anxiously, 
for  he  could  not  bear  the  idea  of  his  old  servant's  reading  the 
confession  of  Frisbie,  that  was  probably  in  that  very  paper. 
"  Have  you  looked  at  it,  I  ask  you  ? "  he  repeated  fiercely. 

"  Nay,  no,  me  laird.  I  hanna  e'en  unfaulded  it,"  said  the  old 
man  simply,  handing  the  paper. 

The  viscount  seized  it,  threw  himself  on  the  chair, 
and  opened  it;  but  instead  of  reading  the  paper  he  looked 
up  at  old  Cuthbert,  who  was  standing  there  watching  his 
master,  with  the  deepest  concern  expressed  in  his  venerable 
countenance. 

"  There,  get  about  something ;  do  anything !  only  don't  stand 
there  and  stare  at  me,  as  if  you  had  gone  daft !  "  angrily  ex 
claimed  Lord  Vincent. 

The  old  man  turned  meekly,  and  began  to  put  things  straight 
in  the  cell.  The  viscount  searched  and  found  what  he  had 
feared  to  see.  Ah !  well  might  he  dread  the  eye  of  old  Cuthbert 
on  him  while  he  read  those  columns. 

Yes,  there  it  was;  the  account  of  the  last  hours  of  Alick 
Frisbie  by  the  pen  of  the  chaplain!  the  night  in  the  cell,  the 
scene  of  the  execution,  and,  last  of  all,  the  confession  of  the 
culprit  with  all  its  shameful  revelations.  The  viscount,  with  a 
feverish  desire  to  see  how  deeply  he  himself  was  implicated, 
and  to  know  the  worst  at  once,  read  it  all.  How  far  he  was  im 
plicated  indeed !  He  was  steeped  to  the  very  lips  in  infamy. 

Why,  the  crime  for  which  Frisbie  had  suffered  death,  the 
murder  of  that  poor  girl,  committed  in  a  paroxysm  of  passion, 
and  repented  in  bitterness,  and  confessed  in  humility,  seemed 
only  a  light  offense  beside  the  deep  turpitude,  the  black  treach 
ery,  of  that  long  premeditated,  carefully  arranged  plot  against 
Lady  Vincent,  in  which  the  viscount  was  the  principal  and  the 
valet  only  the  accomplice.  The  plot  was  revealed  in  all  its 
base,  loathsome,  revolting  details.  The  reader  knows  what  these 


THE   EXECUTION".  413 

Details  were,  for  he  has  both  seen  them  and  heard  of  them.  But 
can  he  imagine  what  it  was  to  the  viscount  to  have  them  dis 
covered,  published,  and  circulated? 

When  Lord  Vincent  had  read  this  confession  through  he 
knew  that  all  was  forever  over  with  him;  he  knew  that  at  that 
very  hour  hundreds  of  poeple  were  reading  that  confession, 
shuddering  at  his  guilt,  scorning  his  baseness,  and  anticipat 
ing  his  conviction;  he  knew  as  well  as  if  he  had  just  heard  the 
sentence  of  the  court  what  that  sentence  would  be.  Penal  ser 
vitude  for  life! 

Deep  groans  burst  from  his  bosom. 

"  Me  laird,  me  laird,  you  are  surely  ill,"  said  the  old  man  anx 
iously,  coming  forward. 

"  Yes,  Cuthbert,  I  am  ill ;  in  pain." 

"Will  I  call  a  doctor?" 

"No,  Cuthbert;  a  doctor  is  not  necessary;  but  attend  to  me 
a  moment.  They  let  you  bring  me  anything  you  like  unques 
tioned,  do  they  not  ? " 

"Aye,  surely,  me  laird;  for  you  are  no  under  condemnation 
yet ;  but  only  waiting  for  your  honorable  acquittal." 

"  Cuthbert,  I  think  you  have  a  brother  who  is  a  chemist  in 
town,  have  you  not  ?  " 

"  Ou,  aye,  me  laird.    Joost  Randy,  honest  man." 

The  viscount  sat  down  and  wrote  a  line  on  a  scrap  of  paper 
and  gave  it  to  the  old  man. 

"  Now,  Cuthbert,  take  this  to  your  brother.  Be  sure  that  you 
let  no  one  see  that  bit  of  paper,  and  when  you  get  the  medicine 
that  I  have  written  for,  put  it  in  your  bosom  and  don't  take 
it  out  until  you  come  back  to  me  and  we  are  alone.  Now,  Cuth 
bert,  I  hope  you  will  be  more  canny  over  this  affair  than  you 
were  over  the  affair  of  the  note  I  sent  to  Frisbie,  which  you  per 
mitted  to  fall  into  the  hands  of  Philistines." 

"  Ah,  puir  Frisbie,  puir  lad !  Gude  hae  mercy  on  him !  I'll 
be  carfu',  me  laird ;  though  it  was  no  me,  but  puir  Frisbie  hira- 
sel',  that  let  the  bit  note  drap.  But  I'll  be  carefu',  me  laird, 
though  'deed  I  dinna  see  the  use  o'  concealment,  sin'  naebody 
ever  interferes  wi'  onything  I  am  bringing  till  your  laird- 
ship." 

"  But  they  might  interfere  with  this  because  it  is  medicine ; 
for  they  might  think  that  no  one  but  the  prison  doctor  has  a 
right  to  give  medicine  here." 

"  Ou,  aye — I  comprehend,  me  laird,  that  sic  might  be  the 


414        SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

case  where  the  medicament  is  dangerous.  But  will  this  be  dan« 
gerous  ? " 

"Why,  no;  it  is  nothing  but  simple  laudanum.  You  know 
how  good  laudanum  is  to  allay  pain ;  and  that  there  is  no  danger 
at  all  in  it." 

"No,  me  laird,  gin  ane  doesna  tak'  an  ower  muckle  dose." 

"Certainly,  if  one  does  not  take  an  overdose;  but  I  have 
knowledge  enough  not  to  do  that,  Cuthbert." 

"  Surely,  me  laird.  I'll  gae  noo  and  get  it,"  replied  the  old 
man,  taking  up  his  hat,  and  knocking  at  the  door  to  be  released. 
The  turnkey  opened  promptly,  and  Cuthbert  departed  on  his 
errand. 

When  the  viscount  was  left  alone  he  resumed  his  restless 
pacing  up  and  down  the  narrow  limits  of  his  cell  and  con 
tinued  it  for  a  while.  Then  he  sat  down  to  his  little  table,  drew 
a  sheet  of  paper  before  him,  and  began  to  write  a  letter. 

He  was  interrupted  by  the  unlocking  of  his  cell  door.  Hastily 
he  turned  the  paper  with  the  blank  side  up  and  looked  around. 
It  was  Mr.  Bruce,  his  counsel.  The  lawyer  looked  unusually 
grave. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  as  soon  as  he  was  left  alone  with  his  client, 
"the  poor  devil  Frisbie  is  gone." 

"  Yes,"  responded  the  viscount,  in  a  low  voice. 

"  That  is  an  ugly  business  of  the  confession." 

"  Very ;  the  man  was  mad,"  said  the  viscount. 

"  Not  unlikely ;  but  I  wish  we  may  be  able  to  persuade  the 
jury  that  he  was  so;  or  else  to  induce  the  judges  to  rule  his 
evidence  out  altogether." 

"Can  that  be  done?  I  mean  can  the  judges  be  induced  to 
rule  out  the  confession  as  evidence  ? "  inquired  the  viscount, 
sudden  hope  lighting  up  his  hitherto  dejected  countenance. 

"I  fear  not;  I  fear  that  our  chance  is  to  persuade  the  jury 
that  the  man  was  insane  or  mendacious — in  a  word,  to  impeact 
his  rationality  or  his  truthfulness,  one  or  the  other;  we  must 
decide  which  stand  we  are  to  take,  which  call  in  question." 

"  You  might  doubt  either  his  sanity  or  his  truth  with  equally 
good  cause.  He  was  always  a  fool  and  always  a  liar.  When  is 
the  trial  to  come  on  ? " 

"  That  is  just  what  I  came  to  speak  to  you  about.  It  is  called 
for  to-morrow  at  ten." 

"  To-morrow  at  ten  ? " 

"Yes." 


THE  EXECUTION.  415 

"  Are  you  quite  ready  with  the  defense  ? " 

"  I  was  until  this  nasty  business  of  Frisbie's  confession 
turned  up.  I  shall  have  to  take  a  copy  of  the  paper  containing 
it  home  with  me  to-night,  and  study  it,  to  see  how  I  can  pull 
it  to  pieces,  and  destroy  its  effects  upon  the  jury.  Have  you 
got  it  here  ? "  said  Mr.  Bruce,  taking  up  the  afternoon  paper 
that  lay  upon  the  table. 
•(|  "Yes." 

"Have  you  done  with  it?" 

"Yes." 

The  lawyer  folded  up  the  paper  and  put  it  in  his  pocket,  and 
took  his  hat  to  depart. 

"  Mr.  Bruce,"  said  the  viscount  earnestly,  "  I  am  about  to  ask 
you  a  question,  which  I  must  entreat  you  to  answer  truthfully : 
What  are  the  chances  of  my  acquittal  ? " 

The  lawyer  hesitated  and  changed  color.  The  eyes  of  the  vis 
count  were  fixed  earnestly  upon  him.  The  eyes  of  the  counsel 
fell. 

"I  see;  you  need  not  reply  to  my  question.  You  think  my 
chance  a  bad  one,"  said  Lord  Vincent  despondently. 

"  No,  my  lord ;  I  did  not  mean  to  give  you  any  such  impres 
sion,"  said  Mr.  Bruce,  recovering  himself  and  his  professional 
manners.  "  Before  this  troublesome  confession  of  Frisbie's 
your  chance  was  an  excellent  one " 

"But  since?" 

"Well,  as  I  say,  that  is  an  ugly  feature  in  tne  case;  but  I 
will  do  my  best.  And  to  say  nothing  of  my  own  poor  abilities, 
my  colleagues,  Stair  and  Drummond,  are  among  the  most  suc 
cessful  barristers  in  the  kingdom.  They  are  always  safe  to  gain 
a  verdict  where  there  is  a  verdict  possible  to  be  gained." 

"  Yes ;  I  know  that  I  have  the  best  talent  in  the  Three  King 
doms  engaged  in  my  defense,"  said  the  viscount ;  but  he  said  it 
with  a  profound  sigh. 

"  I  will  look  in  upon  you  again  early  to-morrow  morning, 
before  we  go  into  court,"  said  Mr.  Bruce,  as  he  bowed  himself 
out. 

This  interview  with  his  counsel  had  only  tended  to  confirm 
the  fears  of  the  viscount  and  deepen  his  despondency,  for, 
notwithstanding  the  guarded  words  of  the  lawyer,  Lord  Vin 
cent  saw  that  he  had  well-nigh  given  up  all  for  lost.  With  a 
deep  groan  he  sat  down  to  the  table  and  resumed  the  writing 
of  his  letter.  He  had  not  written  many  minutes  \vhen  he  was 


416     SELF-RAISED  J  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

startled  by  the  opening  of  the  door.  He  hastily  concealed  hia 
•writing  under  a  piece  of  blotting  paper,  and  nervously  turned 
to  see  who  was  the  new  intruder. 

It  was  old  Cuthbert,  come  back  from  his  errand. 

As  soon  as  the  door  was  closed  upon  them,  the  old  man  ap 
proached  his  master. 

"  Have  you  got  the  medicine,  Cuthbert  ? " 

"Aye,  me  laird,"  replied  the  servant,  taking  a  bottle,  rolled 
in  a  white  paper,  from  his  pocket,  and  handing  it  to  his  master. 
Some  instinct  made  the  viscount  conceal  the  bottle  in  his  own 
bosom. 

"  And  here,  me  laird,  are  two  letters  the  turnkey  gave  me  to 
hand  to  your  lairdship.  He  tauld  me  they  had  just  been  left 
at  the  warden's  office  for  you,"  said  Cuthbert,  laying  two  for 
midable-looking  epistles  before  his  master. 

Lord  Vincent  recognized  in  the  superscription  of  the  respect 
ive  letters  the  handwriting  of  his  counsel,  Mr.  Drummond  and 
Mr.  Stair.  He  hastily  opened  them  one  after  the  other.  Sev 
eral  banknotes  for  a  large  amount  rolled  out  of  each.  Sur 
prised,  he  rapidly  cast  his  eyes  over  each  in  turn.  And  his  face 
turned  to  a  deadly  whiteness.  The  two  letters  were  in  effect 
the  same.  It  seemed  as  though  the  writers,  though  not  in  part 
nership,  had  acted  in  concert  on  this  occasion.  They  each  re 
spectfully  begged  leave  to  return  their  retaining  fees  and  re 
tire  from  the  defense  of  the  viscount.  Since  reading  the  con 
fession  of  the  convict,  Alick  Frisbie,  they  could  not  conscien 
tiously  act  as  counsel  for  Lord  Vincent.  Such  was  the  pur 
port,  if  not  the  exact  words  of  the  two  letters. 

"  Me  laird,  me  laird,  ye  are  ill  again !  "  said  old  Cuthbert, 
anxiously  approaching  his  master. 

"Yes;  the  pain  has  returned." 

"  Will  ye  no  tak'  some  o'  the  medicine  noo  ? '' 

"No,  Cuthbert;  not  until  I  retire  for  the  night,"  answered 
the  viscount;  but  he  withdrew  the  bottle  from  his  bosom,  and 
took  it  to  the  wash-basin  and  washed  off  the  label  and  then 
threw  it — the  label — into  the  fire. 

Cuthbert  watched  him,  and  wondered  at  this  proceeding,  but 
was  too  respectful  to  express  surprise  or  make  inquiries.  And 
at  this  moment  the  turnkey  entered  with  Lord  Vincent's  siip- 
per,  that  had  been  brought  from  the  "  Highlander  " ;  and  while 
he  arranged  it  on  the  table  he  warned  Cuthbert  that  the  prison 
doors  were  about  to  be  closed  for  the  night,  and  that  Mrs.  Mac- 


THE   EXECUTION.  417 

Donald  was  waiting  for  him  to  drive  her  back  to  the  castle. 
Upon  hearing  this  the  old  man  took  a  respectful  leave  of  his 
master  and  departed.  The  turnkey  remained  in  attendance 
upon  the  prisoner,  kindly  pressing  him  to  eat. 

But  Lord  Vincent  swallowed  only  a  little  tea,  and  then  pushed 
the  food  from  him.  The  turnkey  took  away  the  service,  locked 
the  prisoner  in  for  the  night,  and  went  to  the  warden's  office. 

"  Weel,  Donald,  what  is  it,  mon  ? "  inquired  the  warden. 

"  An  ye  please,  sir,  I'm  no  easy  in  my  mind  about  me  Laird\ 
Vincent,"  said  the  turnkey. 

"  Why,  what  ails  me  laird  ? " 

"Why,  sir,  he  is  joost  like  ane  distraught!  " 

"  Ou,  aye,  it  will  be  the  confession  o'  the  malefactor,  Frisbie, 
that  has  f  asht  him ;  as  weel  it  may !  " 

"He's  war  nor  fasht;  he  looks  joost  likely  to  do  himsel'  a 
mischief,"  said  Christie,  shaking  his  head. 

"  Hech !  an  that  be  sae  we  maun  be  caref u' !  Are  there  any 
sharp-edged  or  pointed  instruments  in  his  cell  ? " 

"  Naught  but  his  penknife.  I  was  minded  to  bring  it  away, 
but  I  did  na." 

"  Eh,  then  we  will  pay  him  a  visit  in  his  cell,"  said  the  war 
den,  rising. 

The  turnkey  led  the  way  upstairs,  and  they  entered  the 
prisoner's  cell.  The  viscount,  who  was  sitting  at  the  table  with 
his  head  leaning  upon  his  hand,  looked  up  at  this  unusual  visit. 
His  face  was  deadly  pale;  but  beyond  that  tne  warden  noticed 
nothing  amiss  in  his  appearance,  and  that  paleness  was  certainly 
natural  in  a  prisoner  suffering  from  confinement  and  anxiety. 
There  is  usually  but  scant  ceremony  observed  between  jailer 
and  prisoner;  nevertheless,  in  this  case  Auld  Saundie  Gra'ame 
actually  apologized  for  his  unseasonable  visit. 

"  Me  laird,"  he  said,  "  I  hae  a  verra  unpleasant  duty  to  per 
form  here.  Donald  reports  that  ye  are  no  that  weel  in  your 
mind.  And  sic  being  the  case,  I  maun,  in  regard  to  your  ain 
guid  and  safety,  see  till  the  removal  of  a'  edged  tools  and  sic 
like  dangerous  weapons." 

"  Take  away  what  you  please;  I  have  no  objection,"  said  the 
viscount  indifferently. 

Whereupon  the  warden  and  turnkey  made  a  thorough  search 
of  the  room;  took  away  his  razors  and  scissors  from  his  dress 
ing-case,  and  his  penknife  and  his  eraser  from  his  writing 
desk. 


418  SELF-RAISED;   OE,    FKOM   THE   DEPTHS. 

"  I  shall  take  guid  care  of  a'  these  articles,  me  laird,  and  ro 
turn  them  to  you  safe,  ance  you  are  out  o'  these  wa's,"  said  tha 
warden. 

The  viscount  made  no  reply. 

"And  ye  maun  ken  that  I  only  remove  them  to  prevent  j« 
doin'  yoursel'  a  mischief  in  your  despondency,"  he  continued. 

The  viscount  smiled  with  a  strange,  derisive,  triumphant  ex« 
pression;  but  still  did  not  reply  in  words. 

"  And  gin  ye  will  heed  guid  counsel,  ye  will  na  gi'e  yoursel' 
up  to  despair.  Despair  is  an  unco  ill  counselor,  and  the  de'il 
is  aye  ready  to  tak'  advantage  of  its  presence.  Guid  nicht,  me 
laird,  and  guid  rest  till  ye,"  said  Auld  Saundie,  as  he  withdrew 
himself  and  his  subordinate  from  the  cell,  and  locked  his  pris 
oner  in  finally  for  the  night. 

When  he  got  back  to  his  office  he  summoned  all  of  his  officers 
around  him  and  spoke  to  them. 

"  Lads,  I  ha'e  sair  misgivings  anent  yon  Laird  Vincent.  Ye 
maun  be  verra  carefu' !  Ye  mauna  let  his  mon  Cuthbert  tak' 
onything  in,  until  it  ha'e  passed  muster  under  me  ain  twa  een. 
And  you,  Donald,  maun  aye  gang  in  wi'  Cuthbert  or  ony  ither, 
gentle  or  simple,  wha  gaes  to  see  me  laird,  and  bide  in  the  cell 
wi'  them  to  watch  that  the  visitor  gi'es  naething  unlawfu'  or 
daungerous  to  the  prisoner.  An  ounce  o'  prevention,  ye  ken, 
lads,  is  better  than  a  pund  o'  cure ! " 

And  having  given  this  order,  the  warden  dismissed  his  sub 
ordinates  to  their  various  evening  duties. 

Yes,  an  ounce  of  prevention  is  better  than  a  pound  of  cure! 
But  it  is  a  pity  the  honest  warden  had  not  known  when  to  apply 
the  preventive  agent. 

Meanwhile,  how  had  Faustina  borne  her  imprisonment? 

Why,  excellently.  Not  that  she  had  any  patience,  or  courage, 
or  fortitude,  for  she  had  not  the  least  bit  of  either,  or  any  other 
sort  of  heroism.  But,  as  I  said  before,  she  was  such  a  mere 
animal  that,  so  long  as  she  was  made  comfortable  in  the  pres 
ent,  she  felt  no  trouble  on  the  score  of  the  past  or  the  future. 

After  her  first  fit  of  howling,  weeping,  and  raging  had  ex 
hausted  itself,  and  she  had  seen  that  her  violence  had  no  other 
effect  than  to  injure  her  cause,  she  resigned  herself  to  circum 
stances  and  made  herself  as  comfortable  as  possible  in  her  cell. 
The  expenditure  of  a  few  pounds  had  procured  her  everything 
she  wanted,  except  her  liberty;  and  that  she  did  not  feel  the 
Want  of,  as  a  creature  with  more  soul  might  have  done. 


NEWS   FOR   CLAUDIA,  419 

Any  chance  visitor  who  might  have  gone  into  Faustina's 
cell  would  have  been  astonished  to  see  it  fitted  up  as  a  tiny 
boudoir,  and  would  have  required  to  be  told  that  there  was  no 
law  to  prevent  a  prisoner,  unconvicted  and  waiting  trial,  from 
fitting  up  her  cell  as  luxuriously  as  she  pleased  to  do,  if  she 
had  money  to  pay  the  expense  and  friends  to  take  the  trouble. 
And  Faustina  had  freely  spent  money  and  freely  used  Mrs. 
MacDonald. 

The  floor  of  her  cell  was  covered  with  crimson  carpet,  the 
festooned  window  with  a  lace  curtain,  and  ornamented  with  a 
bouquet  of  flowers.  A  soft  bed,  with  fine  linen  and  warm  cover 
lids,  stood  in  one  corner;  a  toilet  table  and  mirror  draped  with 
lace,  in  another;  a  small  marble  washstand,  with  its  china  ser 
vice,  in  a  third;  and  a  French  porcelain  stove  in  the  fourth. 
A  crimson-covered  easy-chair  and  tiny  stand  filled  up  the  middle 
of  the  small  apartment. 

And  here,  always  well  dressed,  Faustina  sat  and  read  novels, 
or  worked  crochet,  and  gossiped  with  Mrs.  MacDonald  all  day 
long.  And  here  her  epicurean  meals,  shared  by  her  friend  and 
visitor,  were  brought. 

And  here  Mrs.  MacDonald  petted  and  soothed  and  flattered 
her  with  the  hopes  of  a  speedy  deliverance. 


CHAPTER  XLVHI. 

NEWS  FOR  CLAUDIA. 

Oh,  in  their  deaths,  remember  they  are  men, 
Strain  not  revenge  to  wish  their  tortures  grievons. 

— Addison, 

Death — even  the  most  serene  and  beautiful  death,  coming  to 
a  good  old  man  at  the  close  of  a  long,  beneficent  life — is  awful. 
Sudden  and  violent  death,  falling  upon  a  strong  young  man  in 
the  midst  of  his  sins  and  follies,  is  horrible.  But  perhaps  the 
most  appalling  aspect  under  which  the  last  messenger  can  ap- 
pea*  is  that  of  a  deliberately  inflicted  judicial  death. 

Such  a  doom,  pronounced  upon  the  greatest  sinner  that  ever 
lived,  must  move  the  pity  of  his  bitterest  enemy. 

The  family  at  Cameron  Court  formed  a  Christian  household. 
They  received  the  news  of  Frisbie's  conviction  with  solemn, 
compassionate  approbation.  Justice  approved  the  sentence ; 


420        SELF-RAISED;  OK,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

but  mercy  pitied  the  victim.     And  they  passed  the  day  of  hia 
execution  in  a  Sabbath  stillness. 

They  were  glad  when  the  day  was  over;  glad  when  the  late 
evening  mail  brought  the  afternoon  papers  from  Banff,   an 
nouncing  that  the  tragedy  was  finished;  glad  to  read  there  that 
the  sinner  had  repented,  confessed,  and  died,  hoping  in  the 
mercy  of  the  Father,  through  the  atonement  of  sin. 
|    Each  one  breathed  a  sigh  of  infinite  relief  to  find  that  this 
Dinner  had  not  endangered  his  soul  by  impenitently  rushing 
from  man's  temporal  to  God's  eternal  condemnation. 

No  one  failed  to  see  the  immense  importance  of  Frisbie's 
dying  confession  as  evidence  for  the  prosecution  in  the  ap 
proaching  trial  of  the  Viscount  Vincent  and  Faustina  Dugald; 
or  the  fatal  effect  it  must  have  upon  the  accused;  yet  no  one 
spoke  of  it  then  and  there.  The  day  of  stern  retributive  jus« 
tice  was  not  the  time  for  unseemly  triumph. 

They  separated  for  the  night,  gravely  and  almost  sadly. 

Claudia  went  up  to  her  room,  where  her  women,  Katie  and 
Sally,  reinstated  in  her  service,  were  in  attendance.  Sally,  as 
usual,  was  silent  and  humble;  Katie,  equally  as  usual,  talka 
tive  and  dictatorial. 

"And  so  de  shamwally  is  iiung  at  last!  serbe  him  right; 
and  I  hopes  it  did  him  good ;  an'  I  wish  it  was  my  lordship  an' 
de  whited  salt -peter  along  ob  him ! "  she  said,  folding  her  arms 
over  her  fat  bosom  and  rolling  herself  from  side  to  side  with 
infinite  satisfaction. 

"  For  shame,  Katie,  to  triumph  so  over  a  dead  man !  I 
should  have  thought  a  good  Christian  woman  like  you  would 
have  prayed  for  him  before  he  died,"  said  Claudia  gravely. 

"  'Deed  didn't  I !  An'  I  aint  gwine  to  do  it  nuther.  I  aint 
gwine  to  bother  my  Hebbenly  Master  'bout  no  sich  grand  vil- 
yan !  dere  now !  " 

"  Oh,  Katie,  Katie,  I  am  afraid  you  are  a  great  heathen !  " 

"Well,  den,  I  just  ruther  be  a  heathen  dan  a  whited  salt 
peter,  or  a  shamwally,  or  a  lordship  either,  if  I  couldn't  do  no 
more  credit  to  it  dan  some,"  said  Katie,  having,  as  usual,  the 
last  word. 

Claudia  longed  to  be  alone  on  this  night;  so  she  soon  dis 
missed  her  attendants,  closed  up  her  room,  put  out  all  her  lights, 
and  lay  down  in  darkness,  solitude,  and  meditation. 

Strange!  but  on  this  night  her  thoughts,  and  even  her  sym« 
pathies,  were  with  Lord  Vincent  in  his  urison  cell.  Why  should 


NEWS   FOE   CLAUDIA.  421 

she  think  of  him?  Why  should  she  pity  him?  She  had  never 
loved  him,  never  even  fancied  that  she  loved  him,  even  in  the 
delusive  days  of  courtship;  or  in  the  early  days  of  marriage; 
and  she  had  despised  and  shunned  him  in  the  miserable  days 
of  their  estranged  life  at  Castle  Cragg.  Why,  then,  as  she  lay 
there  in  the  darkness,  silence,  and  solitude  of  her  own  cham 
ber,  should  her  imagination  hover  over  him  ?  Why  did  she  con 
template  him  in  sorrow  and  in  compassion? 

Because  in  that  dreary  cell  she  saw  the  twofold  man — the 
man  that  he  ought  to  have  been,  and  the  man  that  he  was;  be 
cause  she  was  his  wife,  and  though  she  had  never  loved  him,  yet 
with  better  treatment  she  might  have  been  won  to  do  so;  and 
finally,  because  she  was  a  woman,  and  therefore  full  of  sym 
pathy  with  every  sort  of  suffering. 

She  knew  that  the  dying  confession  of  Frisbie  would  seal 
Lord  Vincent's  fate.  And  she  contemplated  that  fate  as  she 
had  never  done  before. 

Penal  servitude. 

Why  it  had  seemed  a  mere,  empty  phrase  until  now.  !N"ow  it 
was  an  appalling  reality  brimful  of  horror,  even  for  the  coarsest, 
dullest,  and  hardest  criminal;  but  of  how  much  more  for  him. 

Lord  Vincent  in  the  prison  garb,  working  in  chains ;  inquired 
after  by  curious  sight-seers;  and  pointed  out  to  strangers  as 
the  felon-viscount. 

She  meditated  on  the  effect  all  this  would  have  on  him,  in 
the  unspeakable  misery  it  would  inflict  upon  his  vain,  insolent, 
self-indulgent  organization;  and  she  marveled  how  he  would 
ever  endure  it. 

And  she  thought  of  the  dishonor  this  would  reflect  upon  her 
self  as  his  wife.  And  she  shrunk  shudderingly  away  from  the 
burning  shame  of  living  on,  the  wife  of  a  felon. 

In  the  deep  compassion  she  could  not  but  feel  for  him,  and 
in  the  intense  mortification  she  anticipated  for  herself,  she 
earnestly  wished  that  in  some  manner  he  might  escape  the  de 
grading  penalty  of  his  crimes. 

In  these  harassing  thoughts  and  distressing  feelings  Claudia 
lay  tossing  upon  her  restless  bed  until  long  after  midnight,  when 
at  length  she  dropped  into  a  deep  and  dreamless  sleep. 

Now  the  circumstance  that  I  am  about  to  relate  will  be  in 
terpreted  in  a  different  manner  by  different  people.  Rational 
ists  who  pin  their  faith  on  Sir  Walter  Scott  and  his  "  Demon- 
ology  "  will  say  it  was  only  an  optical  illusion ;  the  incredulous, 


422        SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

who  believe  in  nothing,  will  declare  it  was  but  a  dream;  while 
Spiritualists,  who  follow  Mr.  Robert  Dale  Owen  in  his  "  Foot 
prints  on  the  Boundaries  of  Another  World,"  will  be  ready  to 
declare  that  it  was  the  apparition  of  a  spirit;  I  commit  myself 
to  no  opinion  on  the  subject. 

But  when  Claudia  had  slept  soundly  for  three  hours  she  was 
aroused  by  hearing  her  name  called;  she  awoke  with  a  violent 
start;  she  sat  upright  in  bed,  and  stared  right  before  her  with 
fixed  eyes,  pallid  face,  and  immovable  form,  as  though  she  were 
suddenly  petrified. 

For  there  at  the  foot  of  the  bed,  between  the  tall  posts,  in 
the  division  formed  by  the  festoons  of  the  curtains,  stood  tha 
figure  of  the  Viscount  Vincent.  His  face  was  pale,  still,  stern, 
like  that  of  a  dead  man;  one  livid  hand  clutched  his  breast, 
the  other  was  stretched  towards  her;  and  from  the  cold,  blue, 
motionless  lips  proceeded  a  voice  hollow  as  the  distant  moan 
of  the  wintry  wind  through  leafless  woods: 

"  Claudia,  the  debt  is  paid ! " 

With  these  words  the  vision  slowly  dissolved  to  air.  Then, 
and  not  until  then,  was  the  icy  spell  that  bound  all  Claudia's 
faculties  loosened.  She  uttered  piercing  shriek  upon  shriek  that 
startled  all  the  sleepers  in  the  house,  and  brought  them  rushing 
into  her  room.  Katie  and  Sally  being  the  nearest,  were  the 
first  to  enter. 

"  For  Marster's  sake,  my  ladyship,  what  is  the  matter  ? "  in 
quired  the  old  woman,  while  Sally  stood  by  in  a  dumb  terror. 

"  Oh,  Katie,  Katie !  it  was  Lord  Vincent !  He  has  contrived 
to  make  his  escape  in  some  manner !  He  is  out  of  prison !  he  is 
in  this  very  house !  he  was  in  this  room  but  a  minute  ago,  though 
I  do  not  see  him  now!  and  he  spoke  to  me! " 

"My  goodness  gracious  me  alibe,  Miss  Claudia,  hcney,  it 
couldn't  a  been  he!  he's  locked  up  safe  in  jail,  you  know!  It 
mus*  a  been  his  sperrit ! "  said  superstitious  Katie,  with  the 
deepest  awe. 

"  Claudia,  my  dearest,  what  is  the  matter?  What  is  all  this? 
What  has  happened  ? "  anxiously  inquired  the  Countess  of 
Hurstmonceux,  as,  hastily  wrapped  in  her  dressing-gown,  she 
hurried  into  the  chamber  and  up  to  Claudia's  bedside. 

"Come  closer,  Berenice;  stoop  down;  now  listen!  The  vis 
count  has  broken  prison!  he  was  here  but  a  moment  ago!  and 
he  is  gone!  but  his  unexpected  appearance  in  this  place  and  at 
this  hour,  looking  as  he  did  so  deathly  pale,  so  livW  and  sa 


NEWS   FOE   CLAUDIA.  423 

corpse-like,  frightened  me  nearly  out  of  my  senses,  and  I 
screamed  with  terror.  I — I  tremble  even  yet." 

"My  dearest  Claudia,  you  have  been  dreaming.  Compose 
yourself,"  said  Lady  Hurstmonceux  soothingly. 

"  My  dearest  Berenice,  it  was  no  dream,  believe  me.  I  was 
indeed  asleep,  fast  asleep;  but  I  was  awakened  by  hearing  my 
self  called  by  name — '  Claudia,  Claudia,  Claudia,'  three  times. 
And  I  opened  my  eyes  and  sat  up  in  bed,  and  saw  standing  at 
the  foot,  looking  at  me  between  the  curtains,  Lord  Vincent." 

At  this  moment  Judge  Merlin,  in  his  dressing-gown  and 
slippers,  came  slowly  into  the  chamber,  looking  around  in  a  be 
wildered  way  and  saying: 

"  They  told  me  the  screams  proceeded  from  my  daughter's 
apartment.  What  is  the  matter  here?  Claudia,  my  dear,  what 
has  happened  ?  What  has  frightened  you  ? "  he  inquired,  ap 
proaching  her  bedside. 

"  Oh,  my  poor  papa,  have  you  be,en  disturbed,  too  ?  How 
sorry  I  am ! "  said  Claudia. 

"  Never  mind  me,  my  dear !     What  has  happened  to  you  ? " 

"  Lady  Vincent  has  been  frightened  by  a  disagreeable  dream, 
sir,"  replied  Lady  Hurstmonceux,  answering  for  her  friend. 

"  My  dear  lady,  you  here ! "  exclaimed  the  judge,  seeing  her 
for  the  first  time  since  he  entered  the  room. 

"  I  am  a  light  sleeper,"  smiled  the  countess. 

"I  am  very  sorry,  papa,  that  I  aroused  the  house  in  this 
manner,"  said  Claudia,  with  real  regret  in  her  tone. 

"  It  was  not  like  you  to  do  so,  for  a  dream,  my  dear,"  replied 
the  judge  gravely. 

"  It  was  no  dream,  papa !  it  was  no  dream,  as  the  result  will 
prove." 

"  What  was  it  then,  my  dear? " 

"  It  was  the  Viscount  Vincent !  " 

"  The  Viscount  Vincent ! "  exclaimed  the  judge,  in  aston 
ishment. 

"  Yes,  papa ;  he  has  contrived  to  escape  and  to  enter  this 
house  and  this  very  room.  It  was  his  sudden  appearance  that 
frightened  me  into  the  screaming  fit  that  alarmed  the  house 
hold  ;  and  for  which  I  am  very  sorry." 

"  The  Viscount  Vincent  here !  But  how  on  earth  could  he 
have  escaped  from  prison  ? " 

"I  do  not  know,  papa.  I  only  know  by  the  evidence  of  my 
OWE  senses  that  he  has  done  so." 


424  6ELF-KAISED ;   OK,    FROM   THE  DEPTHS. 

"My  dearest  Claudia,  believe  me,  you  have  been  dreaming* 
Judge  Merlin,  if  you  knew  the  great  strength  and  security  of 
our  prisons,  you  would  also  know  how  impossible  it  would  be 
for  any  prisoner  to  escape,"  said  Lady  Hurstmonceux,  ad 
dressing  in  turn  the  father  and  the  daughter. 

"  Berenice,  that  I  have  not  been  dreaming  to-morrow  will 
show.  For  to-morrow  you  and  all  concerned  will  know  that 
Lord  Vincent  has  escaped  from  prison.  But  my  dear  Berenice, 
and  you,  my  dearest  father,  promise  to  me  one  thing;  promise 
me  not  to  give  Lord  Vincent  up  to  justice ;  but  to  suffer  him  to 
get  away  from  the  country,  if  he  can  do  so.  That  is  doubtless 
all  that  he  proposes  to  himself  to  do.  And  such  exile  will  bo 
punishment  enough  in  itself  for  him,  especially  as  it  will  in 
volve  the  resignation  of  his  rank,  title,  and  inheritance.  So 
let  him  get  away  if  he  can.  He  can  work  no  further  woe  for  me. 
JFrisbie's  dying  confession  has  killed  off  all  his  calumnies 
against  me.  He  is  harmless  henceforth.  So  leave  him  to  God," 
pleaded  Claudia. 

"I  am  willing  to  do,  or  leave  undone,  whatever  you  please, 
my  dear;  but — do  you  really  think  that  you  actually  did  see  the 
viscount,  and  that  you  did  not  only  dream  of  seeing  him  ? "  in 
quired  the  judge,  unable  to  get  over  his  amazement. 

"  Yes,  papa ;  I  saw  him ;  and  to-morrow  will  prove  that  I  did 
so,"  said  Claudia  emphatically. 

Lady  Hurstmonceux  smiled  incredulously,  for  she  did  not 
reflect  that  there  were  more  ways  than  one  of  breaking  out  of 
prison. 

"  But  supposing  it  to  have  been  the  viscount ;  and  supposing 
that  he  had  succeeded  in  bursting  locks  and  bars  and  eluding- 
guards  and  sentinels;  why  should  he  have  come  here,  of  all 
places  in  the  world?  What  could  have  been  his  motive  in  so 
risking  a  recapture?"  inquired  the  judge,  who  seemed  inclined 
to  investigate  the  affair  then  and  there. 

"  I  do  not  know,  papa.  I  have  not  had  time  to  think.  I  waa 
so  astonished  and  even  frightened  at  his  mere  appearance  that 
I  never  asked  myself  the  reason  of  it,"  answered  Claudia. 

"  Did  you  not  ask  him  ?  " 

"  No,  papa.    I  only  screamed." 

"  Did  he  not  speak  to  you  ?  " 

"Yes,  papa." 

"What  did  he  say?" 

"  Papa,  I  had  better  tell  you  just  how  it  happened,7*  answered 


NEWS    FOIi   CLAUDIA.  425 

Claudia,  giving  the  judge  a  detailed  account  of  the  dream, 
vision,  or  ghost,  as  the  reader  chooses  to  call  it;  but  which  she 
persisted  in  declaring  to  be  the  viscount  himself  in  the  flesh. 

"  It  is  most  extraordinary !  How  did  he  get  out  ?  Lady  Hurst- 
monceux,  had  we  not  better  have  the  house  searched  for  him? " 
inquired  the  judge. 

"  It  shall  be  done  if  you  please,  judge ;  though  I  think  it  un 
necessary." 

"  Papa,  no !  he  went  as  he  came.  Let  him  go.  I  hope  he  will 
be  clear  of  the  country  before  to-morrow  morning." 

At  this  moment  the  clock  struck  five,  although  it  was  still 
pitch-dark  and  far  from  the  dawn  of  day. 

"  There !  I  declare  it  is  to-morrow  morning  already,  as  the 
Irish  would  say.  Lady  Hurstmonceux,  do  not  let  me  keep  you 
up  any  longer.  I  know  your  usual  hour  for  rising  at  this  sea 
son  of  the  year  is  eight  o'clock.  You  will  have  three  good 
hours'  sleep  before  you  yet.  Papa,  dear,  go  to  bed  or  you  will 
make  yourself  ill." 

"  Are  you  sure  you  will  not  have  anything  before  I  go,  Clau 
dia  ?  "  inquired  the  countess. 

"Nothing  whatever,  dear;  I  think  I  shall  sleep." 

Lady  Hurstmonceux  stooped  and  kissed  her  friend,  and  then, 
with  a  smile  and  a  bow  to  the  judge,  she  retired  from  the  room. 

"  Do  you  think  now  that  you  will  rest,  Claudia  ? "  inquired 
the  judge. 

"  Yes,  papa,  yes.    Go  to  rest  yourself." 

He  also  stooped  and  kissed  her,  and  then  left  the  chamber. 

"Go  to  bed,  Katie  and  Sally,"  said  Claudia  to  her  women. 

"  'Deed  'fore  de  Lord  aint  I  gwine  to  no  bed  to  leabe  you 
here  by  yourse'f.  I  don't  want  you  to  see  no  more  sperrits," 
replied  Katie.  And  she  left  the  room  for  a  few  minutes  and 
returned  dragging  in  her  mattress,  which  she  spread  upon  the 
floor,  and  upon  which  she  threw  herself  to  sleep  for  the  re 
mainder  of  the  dark  hours. 

Lady  Vincent  submitted  to  this  intrusion,  because  she  knew 
it  would  be  utterly  useless  to  expostulate.  But  Sally  began  to 
whimper. 

"  Now,  den,  what  de  matter  long  o'  you  ?  You  seen  a  sperrit 
too  ? "  demanded  Katie. 

"I's  feared  to  sleep  by  myse'f,  for  fear  I  should  see 
thin',"  wept  Sally. 

"  Den  you  lay  down  here  by  me,"  ordered  Katie. 


426  SELF-RAISED  J   OK,    FROM   THE   DEPTHS. 

And  thus  it  was  that  Lady  Vincent's  two  women  shared  he? 
sleeping  room  the  remainder  of  that  disturbed  night — to  be 
disturbed  no  longer;  for,  whether  it  was  owing  to  the  pres 
ence  of  the  negroes  or  not,  Claudia  slept  untroubled  by  dream, 
vision,  or  apparition,  until  the  daylight  streaming  through  one 
window,  that  had  been  left  unclosed,  awakened  her. 

It  was  ten  o'clock,  however,  before  the  family  assembled  at 
the  breakfast  table,  where  they  were  engaged  in  discussing  the 
affair  of  the  previous  night,  and  in  each  maintaining  his  or 
her  own  opinion  as  to  its  character;  Claudia  persisting  that  it 
was  the  Viscount  Vincent  in  person  that  she  had  seen;  Bere 
nice  contending  that  it  was  a  dream;  and  the  judge  hesitating 
between  two  opinions;  Ishmael  silent. 

"  A  very  few  hours  will  now  decide  the  question,"  said  Clau 
dia,  abandoning  the  discussion  and  beginning  to  chip  her  egg. 
At  this  moment  came  a  sound  of  wheels  on  the  drive  before  the 
Aouse,  followed  by  a  loud  knock  at  the  door. 

"  There !  I  should  not  in  the  least  wonder  if  that  is  a 
detachment  of  police  coming  to  tell  us  that  Lord  Vincent  has 
broken  prison,  and  bringing  a  warrant  to  search  this  house  for 
him,"  said  Claudia,  half  rising  to  listen. 

A  servant  entered  the  room  and  said: 

"  Sergeant  McRae  is  out  in  the  hall,  asking  to  see  his  honor 
the  judge." 

"I  thought  so,"  said  Claudia  briskly. 

The  judge  went  out  to  see  the  sergeant  of  police. 

Claudia  and  Berenice  suspended  their  breakfast,  and  waited 
ib  intense  anxiety  the  result  of  the  interview. 

Some  little  time  elapsed,  perhaps  fifteen  or  twenty  minutes, 
fcough  the  impatience  of  the  ladies  made  it  seem  an  hour  in 
fength;  and  then  the  door  slowly  opened  and  the  judge  gravely 
re-entered  the  breakfast  room. 

"  It  is  as  I  said.  The  Viscount  Vincent  has  broken  jail  and 
they  have  come  here  with  a  search  warrant  to  look  for  him ! '' 
exclaimed  Claudia,  glancing  up  at  her  father  as  he  approached ; 
but  when  she  saw  the  expression  of  profound  melancholy  in  his 
countenance,  she  started,  turned  pale,  and  cried : 

"  Good  Heaven,  papa,  what — what  has  happened  ?  " 

"  Partly  what  you  have  anticipated,  Claudia.  The  Viscount 
Vincent  has  broken  out  of  prison,  but  not  in  the  manner  you 
supposed,"  solemnly  replied  the  judge,  taking  his  daughter's 
arm  and  leading  her  to  a  sofa  and  seating  her  upon  it. 


NEWS  FOR  CLAtJDIA.  427 

Lady  Hurstmonceux,  startled,  anxious,  and  alarmed,  followed 
and  stood  by  her  and  held  her  hand.  And  both  ladies  gazed  in 
quiringly  into  the  disturbed  face  of  the  old  man. 

"  There  is  something — something  behind !  What  is  it,  papa  2 
The  viscount  has  broken  jail,  you  say!  Has  he — has  he — 
killed  one  of  the  guards  in  making  his  escape  ? "  inquired  Clau 
dia,  in  a  low,  awe-stricken  voice. 

"  No,  my  dear,  he  has  not  done  that.  He  has  escaped  the  tri 
bunal  of  man  to  rush  uncalled  to  the  tribunal  of  God,"  said  the 
judge  solemnly. 

Claudia,  though  her  dilated  eyes  were  fixed  in  eager  ques 
tioning  on  the  face  of  her  father,  and  though  her  ears  were 
strained  to  catch  his  low-toned  words,  yet  did  not  seem  to  gather 
in  his  meaning. 

"  What — what  do  you  say,  papa  ?  ^Explain !  "  she  breathed 
in  scarcely  audible  syllables. 

"  The  Viscount  Vincent  is  dead ! " 

"Dead!"  ejaculated  Claudia. 

"  Dead !  "  echoed  the  countess. 

u  Dead,  by  his  own  act ! "  repeated  the  judge. 

Claudia  sank  back  in  the  corner  of  the  sofa  and  covered  her 
face  with  her  hands — overcome,  not  by  sorrow  certainly,  bat 
by  awe  and  pity. 

Berenice  sat  down,  beside  the  newly  made  widow,  and  put 
her  arms  around  her  waist,  and  drew  her  head  upon  her  bosom. 
Judge  Merlin  stood  silently  before  them.  The  only  one  who 
seemed  to  have  the  full  possession  of  his  faculties  was  Ishmael. 

He  quietly  dismissed  the  gaping  servants  from  the  room, 
closed  the  doors,  and  drew  a  resting-chair  to  the  side  of  his  old 
friend,  and  gently  constrained  him  to  sit  down  in  it.  And  then 
he  was  about  to  glide  away  when  the  judge  seized  his  hand 
and  detained  him,  saying  imploringly:  . 

"No,  no,  Ishmael!  no,  no,  my  dearest  young  friend!  do  not 
leave  us  at  this  solemn  crisis." 

Ishmael  placed  his  hand  in  that  of  the  old  man,  as  an  earnest 
of  fidelity,  and  remained  standing  by  him. 

After  a  little  while  Claudia  lifted  her  head  from  the  bosom 
of  Lady  Hurstmonceux,  and  said : 

"  Oh,  papa,  this  is  dreadful !  " 

"Dreadful,  indeed,  my  dear." 

"  That  any  human  being  should  be  driven  to  such  a  fate !  * 

"Tc  such  a  crime,   Claudia,"  gravely  amended  the  judge 


428        SELF-RAISED;  ofc,  FEOM  THE  DEPTHS. 

"  Crime,  then,  if  you  will  call  it  so.  But  I  do  not  wonder  at 
it.  May  God  in  his  infinite  mercy  forgive  him  1 "  fervently 
prayed  Claudia. 

"  Amen !  "  deeply  responded  the  judge. 

"Papa,  they  say  that  suicides  are  never  forgiven — can  neve* 
be  forgiven — because  their  sin  is  the  last  act  of  their  life,  af 
fording  no  time  for  repentance.  Yet  who  knows  that  for  cer 
tain?  Who  knows  but  in  the  short  interval  between  the  deed 
and  the  death,  there  may  not  be  repentance  and  pardon  ? " 

"  Who  knows,  indeed !     '  With  God  all  things  are  possible.'  " 

"  Oh,  papa,  I  hope  he  repented  and  is  pardoned ! " 

"  I  hope  so  too,  Claudia." 

She  dropped  her  head  once  more  upon  the  bosom  of  Lady 
Hurstmonceux,  in  pity  and  in  awe;  but  not  in  sorrow,  for  his 
death  was  an  infinite  relief  to  her  and  to  all  connected  with 
him.  After  a  little  while  she  raised  her  head  again,  and  in  a 
low,  hushed  voice,  inquired: 

"  Papa,  at  what  hour  did  he  die  ? " 

"  Between  four  and  five  o'clock  this  morning,  my  dear." 

"Between  four  and  five  o'clock  this  morning!  Good 
Heavens ! "  exclaimed  Claudia  and  Berenice  simultaneously, 
starting  and  gazing  into  each  other's  faces. 

"  What  is  the  matter  ? "  gravely  inquired  the  judge. 

"  That  was  the  very  hour  in  which  Claudia  was  awakened 
by  her  strange  dream ! "  replied  Lady  Hurstmonceux. 

"  Oh,  papa !  that  was  the  very  hour  in  which  I  saw  Lord  Vin 
cent  standing  at  the  foot  of  my  bed  I "  exclaimed  Claudia,  with 
a  shudder. 

"  How  passing  strange ! "  mused  the  judge. 

"  Oh,  papa !  can  such  things  really  be  ?  can  a  parting  spirit 
appear  to  us  the  moment  it  leaves  the  body  ?  "  inquired  Claudia, 
in  an  awe-struck  manner. 

"My  dear  if  anyone  had  related  to  me  such  a  strange  cir 
cumstance  as  this,  of  which  we  are  all  partly  cognizant,  I  should 
have  discredited  the  whole  affair.  As  it  is,  I  know  not  what  to 
make  of  it.  It  may  have  been  a  dream ;  nay,  it  must  have  been 
a  dream;  yet,  even  as  a  dream,  occurring  just  at  the  hour  it  did, 
it  was  certainly  an  astonishing  and  a  most  marvelous  coin 
cidence." 

Again  Claudia  dropped  her  head  upon  the  supporting  bosom 
of  Lady  Hurstmonceux,  but  this  time  it  was  in  weariness  and 
in  thought  that  she  reposed  there. 


JTEWS   FOR   CLAUDIA.  429 

A  few  minutes  passed,  and  then,  without  lifting  her  head, 
she  murmured : 

"  Tell  me  all  about  it,  papa;  I  must  learn  some  time;  as  well 
BOW  as  any  other." 

"  Can  you  bear  to  hear  the  story  now,  Claudia  ? " 

"  Better  now,  I  think,  than  at  a  future  time ;  I  am  in  a  meas 
ure  prepared  for  it  now.  How  did  it  happen,  papa  ? " 

The  judge  drew  closer  to  his  daughter,  took  her  hand  in  his, 
and  said: 

"  I  will  tell  you,  as  McRae  told  me,  my  dear.  You  must  know 
that  from  the  time  Lord  Vincent  read  the  published  confession 
of  Frisbie,  in  the  afternoon  papers,  he  became  so  much  changed 
in  all  respects  as  to  excite  the  attention,  then  the  suspicion, 
and  finally  the  alarm  of  his  keepers.  At  six  o'clock  after  the 
turnkey,  Donald,  had  paid  his  last  visit  to  his  prisoner,  and 
locked  up  the  cell  for  the  night,  lie  reported  the  condition  of 
Lord  Vincent  to  the  governor  of  the  jail.  Mr.  Gra'ame,  on 
hearing  the  account  given  by  Donald,  determined  to  curtail 
many  of  the  privileges  his  lordship  had  hitherto,  as  an  untried 
prisoner,  enjoyed.  Among  the  rest  he  determined  that  nothing 
more  should  be  carried  to  his  lordship  in  his  cell  that  he,  the 
governor,  had  not  first  examined,  as  a  precautionary  measure 
against  drugs  or  tools,  with  which  the  prisoner  might  do  him 
self  a  mischief." 

"  I  should  think  they  ought  to  have  taken  that  precaution 
from  the  first,"  said  Claudia. 

"  It  is  not  usual  in  the  case  of  an  untried  prisoner ;  but,  how 
ever,  the  governor  of  Banff  jail  seemed  to  think  as  you  do, 
for  he  farther  determined  to  make  a  special  visit  to  the  prisoner 
that  night,  to  search  his  cell  and  remove  from  it  everything  with, 
which  he  might  possibly  injure  himself.  And  accordingly  the 
governor,  accompanied  by  the  turnkey,  went  to  the  cell  and 
made  a  thorough  search.  They  found  nothing  suspicious,  how 
ever.  But  in  their  late  though  excessive  caution  they  carried 
away,  not  only  the  prisoner's  razor,  but  his  pen-knife  and 
scissors.  And  then  they  left  him." 

"  And  after  all,  left  him  with  the  means  of  self-destruction," 
exclaimed  Claudia. 

"  No,  they  did  not.  You  shall  hear.  About  eight  o'clock  that 
night,  as  the  watchman  of  that  ward  was  pacing  his  rounds,  he 
heard  deep  groans  issuing  from  Lord  Vincent's  cell.  He  went 
and  gave  the  alarm.  The  warden,  the  physician,  and  the  turn- 


430        SELF-RAISED;  o»,  FfcOM  THE  DEPTHS. 

key  entered  the  cell  together.  They  found  the  viscount  in  tha 
agonies  of  death." 

"  Great  Heavens !    Alone  and  dying  in  his  cell ! " 

"  Yes ;  and  suffering  even  more  distress  of  mind  than  of  body. 
When  it  was  too  late,  he  regretted  his  rash  deed.  For  he  freely 
confessed  that  being  driven  to  despair  and  almost  if  not  quite 
to  madness,  by  the  desperate  state  of  his  affairs,  he  had  procured 
laudanum  through  the  agency  of  his  servant,  having  persuaded 
the  old  man  that  he  merely  wanted  the  medicine  to  allay 
pain." 

"  Poor,  poor  soul !  " 

"  Cuthbert,  simple  and  unsuspicious,  and  as  easily  deceived 
as  a  child,  brought  the  laudanum  to  him  and  bid  him  adieu 
for  the  night.  And  it  was  in  the  interval  between  the  last  visit 
of  the  turnkey  and  the  special  visit  of  the  governor  that  the 
prisoner  drank  the  whole  of  the  laudanum.  And  then  to  pre 
vent  suspicion  he  washed  the  label  from  the  bottle  and  poured 
in  a  little  ink  from  his  inkstand.  So  that  when  the  governor 
made  his  visit  of  inspection,  although  he  actually  handled  that 
bottle,  he  took  it  for  nothing  else  but  a  receptacle  for  ink." 

"  Oh,  how  dreadful !  how  dreadful,  that  anyone  should  ex 
ercise  so  much  calculation,  cunning,  and  foresight  for  the  de 
struction  of  his  own  soul !  "  moaned  Claudia. 

"Yes;  he  himself  thought  so  at  last;  for  no  sooner  did  the 
poison  begin  to  do  its  work,  no  sooner  did  he  feel  death  ap 
proaching,  than  he  was  seized  with  horror  at  the  enormity  of 
Jiris  own  crime,  and  with  remorse  for  the  sins  of  his  whole  life. 
It  would  seem  that  in  that  hour  his  eyes  were  opened  for  the 
first  time,  and  he  saw  himself  as  he  really  was,  a  rampant  rebel 
against  all  the  laws  of  God  and  on  the  brink  of  eternal  perdi 
tion.  It  was  the  great  agony  of  mind  produced  by  this  view  of 
himself  and  his  condition  that  forced  from  him  those  deep 
groans  that  were  heard  by  the  night-watch  who  brought  the 
relief  to  him." 

"Then  he  must  have  repented.  Oh!  I  hope  that  God  for 
gave  him  I "  prayed  Claudia,  with  earnest  tones  and  clasped 
hands. 

"  You  may  be  sure  that  God  did  forgive  him  if  he  truly  re 
pented!  Certainly  it  seemed  that  he  repented;  for  he  begged 
for  antidotes,  declaring  that  he  wished  to  live  to  atone  for  the 
sins  of  his  past.  Antidotes  were  administered,  but  without  the 
least  good  effect.  And  when  he  repeated  his  earnest  wish  to  bet 


HEWS   FOE   CLAUDIA,  431 

permitted1  to  live  that  lie  might  '  atone  by  his  future  life  for 
the  sins  of  _  his  past,'  the  physician,  who  is  a  good  man,  sent  for 
the  chaplain  of  the  jail,  a  ferveut  Christian,  who  told  the  pris 
oner  how  impossible  it  was  for  him,  should  he  have  a  new  lease 
of  life,  to  atone,  by  years  of  penance,  for  the  smallest  sin  of  his 
soul;  but  pointed  him.  at  the  same  time  to  the  One  Divine 
Atoner,  who  is  able  to  save  to  the  uttermost.  The  chaplain  re 
mained  praying  with  the  dying  man  until  half-past  four  o'clock 
this  morning,  when  he  breathed  his  last.  That  is  all,  Claudia." 

"  Oh,  papa,  you  see  he  did  repent ;  and  I  will  hope  that  God 
has  pardoned  him,"  said  Claudia  earnestly;  but  she  was  very 
pale  and  faint,  and  she  leaned  heavily  upon  the  shoulder  of 
Lady  Hurstmonceux. 

"  My  dearest  Claudia,  let  me  lead  you  to  your  room ;  you  re 
quire  repose  after  this  excitement,"  said  the  countess,  giving 
her  arm  to  the  new  widow. 

Claudia  arose ;  but  the  judge  gently  arrested  her  progress. 

"  Stay,  my  dear !  One  word  before  you  go.  The  business  of 
McRae  here  was  not  only  to  announce  the  death  of  Lord  Vin 
cent,  but  also  the  approaching  trial  of  Faustina  Dugald. 
It  comes  on  at  ten  o'clock  to-morrow  morning.  You  are  sum 
moned  as  a  witness  for  the  prosecution.  Therefore,  my  dear, 
we  must  leave  Edinboro'  for  Banff  by  the  afternoon  express 
train." 

"  Oh,  papa !  to  appear  in  a  public  court  at  such  a  time ! "  ex 
claimed  Claudia,  with  a  shudder. 

"  I  know  it  is  hard,  my  dear.  I  know  it  must  be  dreadful ; 
but  I  also  know  that  the  way  of  Justice  is  like  the  progress  of 
the  Car  of  Juggernaut.  It  stops  for  nothing;  it  rolls  on  in  its 
irresistible  course,  crushing  under  its  iron  wheels  all  conven 
tionalities,  all  proprieties,  all  sensibilities.  And  I  know  also, 
my  daughter,  that  you  are  equal  to  the  duties,  the  exertions,  and 
the  sacrifices  that  Justice  requires  of  you.  There,  go  now! 
take  what  repose  you  can  for  the  next  few  hours,  to  be  ready 
for  the  train  at  six  o'clock,"  said  the  judge,  stooping,  and  press 
ing  a  kiss  upon  his  daughter's  brow,  before  the  countess  led  her 
away. 

"  Ishmael,"  said  the  judge,  as  soon  as  they  were  alone,  "  do 
you  know  what  you  and  I  have  got  to  do  now  ? " 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  the  young  man  solemnly,  "I  know." 

"  That  poor,  unhappy  man  in  yonder  prison  has  no  friend  or 
relative  to  claim  his  body,  his  father  being  absent;  and  if  we 


432  SELF-RAISED  J   OR,    FROM   THE   DEPTHS. 

do  not  claim  it,  it  will  be  ignominiously  buried  by  the  prison 
authorities  within  the  prison  walls." 

"  I  thought  of  that,  but  waited  for  your  suggestion.  If  you 
please  I  will  see  the  proper  authorities  to-morrow  and  make 
arrangements  with  them." 

"Do,  my  dear  young  friend,"  said  the  judge,  wringing  his 
hand  as  he  left  him. 

Amid  the  great  crises  of  life  its  small  proprieties  must  still 
be  observed.  This  the  Countess  of  Hurstmonceux  knew.  And, 
therefore,  as  soon  as  she  had  seen  Claudia  reposing  on  her  com 
fortable  sofa  in  her  chamber,  she  ordered  her  carriage  and 
drove  to  Edinboro',  and  to  a  celebrated  mourning  warehouse 
where  they  got  up  outfits  on  the  shortest  notice,  and  there 
she  procured  a  widow's  complete  dress,  including  the  gown, 
mantle,  bonnet,  veil,  and  gloves,  and  took  them  home  to  Clau 
dia.  For  she  knew  that  if  Lady  Vincent  were  compelled  to  ap 
pear  in  the  public  courtroom  the  next  day,  she  must  wear 
widow's  weeds. 

When  she  took  these  articles  into  Claudia's  room  and  showed 
them  to  her,  the  latter  said : 

"  My  dear  Berenice,  I  thank  you  very  much  for  your  thought 
ful  care.  But  do  you  know  that  it  would  seem  like  hypocrisy 
in  me  to  wear  this  mourning?" 

"My  dearest  Claudia,  conventionalities  must  be  observed 
though  the  heavens  fall.  You  owe  this  to  yourself,  to  society, 
and  even  to  the  dead — for  in  his  death  he  has  atoned  for  much 
to  you." 

"  I  will  wear  them  then,"  said  Claudia. 

And  there  the  matter  ended. 

Meanwhile,  the  news  of  Lord  Vincent's  death  had  got  about 
among  the  servants.  Katie  and  Sally  also  had  heard  of  it. 

So  that  when  Lady  Vincent  rang  for  her  women  to  come  and 
pack  up  her  traveling  trunk  to  go  to  Banff,  Katie  entered  full 
of  the  subject. 

"  So  my  lordship  has  gone  to  his  account,  and  all  from  takin' 
of  an  overdose  of  laudamy  drops.  How  careful  people  ought  to 
be  when  they  meddles  long  o'  dat  sort  o'  truck.  Well,  laws! 
long  as  he's  dead  and  gone  I  forgibs  him  for  heavin'  of  me  down 
to  lib  long  o'  de  rats,  and  den  sellin'  ob  me  to  de  barbariums  in 
de  Stingy  Isles.  'Deed  does  I  forgibs  him  good  too.  and  like 
wise  de  shamwally  while  I'se  got  my  hand  in  at  forgibness," 
she  said. 


THE   FATE    OF   FAUSTINA.  433 

"  That's  right,  Katie.  Never  let  your  hatred  follow  a  man 
to  the  grave,"  said  Claudia. 

''  I  wouldn't  f orgib  'em  if  dey  wasn't  dead,  dough.  'Deed 
wouldn't  I.  I  tell  you  all  good  too.  And  if  dey  was  to  come 
hack  to  life  I  would  just  take  my  forgibness  back  again.  And 
it  should  all  be  just  like  it  was  before,"  said  Katie,  sharply 
defining  her  position. 

Claudia  sadly  shook  her  head. 

"  That  is  a  very  questionable  species  of  forgiveness,  Katie," 
she  said. 

That  afternoon  the  whole  party,  including  the  Countess  of 
Hurstmonceux,  who  declared  her  intention  of  supporting  Clau 
dia  through  the  approaching  ordeal,  left  Cameron  Court  for 
Edinboro',  where  they  took  the  six  o'clock  train  for  Banff,  where 
they  arrived  at  ten  the  same  evening. 

They  went  to  the  "  Highlander,"  where  they  engaged  comfort 
able  apartments  and  settled  themselves  for  a  few  days. 


CHAPTER  XLIX. 

THE  FATE  OP  FAUSTINA. 

Oh,  what  a  fate  is  guilt!    How  wild,  how  wretched! 
When  apprehension  can  form  naught  but  fears. 

— Howard. 

Early  the  next  morning  Ishmael  went  over  to  the  prison  to 
see  the  governor  relative  to  the  removal  of  the  body  of  the  un 
happy  Vincent.  But  he  was  told  that  the  old  Earl  of  Hurst 
monceux  had  arrived  at  noon  on  the  previous  day  and  had 
claimed  the  body  of  his  son  and  had  it  removed  from  the  prison 
in  a  close  hearse  at  the  dead  of  night,  to  escape  the  observation 
of  the  mob,  and  conveyed  to  Castle  Cragg,  where,  without  any 
funeral  pomp,  it  would  be  quietly  deposited  in  the  family 
vault. 

With  this  intelligence  Ishmael  came  back  to  Judge  Merlin. 

"  That  is  well !  That  is  a  great  relief  to  my  mind,  Ishmael," 
said  the  judge,  and  he  went  to  convey  the  news  to  Lady  Vincent 
and  the  countess. 

At  nine  o'clock  Katie,  Sally,  and  Jim,  who  were  all  wit 
nesses  for  the  prosecution  in  the  approaching  trial  of  Faustina 


434  SELF-KAJSED  J   OB,   FKOM   THE   DEPTHS. 

Dugald,  were  dispatched  to  the  courthouse,  under  the  escort  o^ 
the  professor. 

At  half-past  nine  Judge  Merlin,  Ishmael  Worth,  Lady  Vin 
cent,  and  the  Countess  of  Hurstmonceux  entered  a  close  car 
riage  and  drove  to  the  same  place. 

What  a  crowd  I 

It  is  not  every  day  that  a  woman  of  high  rank  stands  at  the 
bar  of  a  criminal  court  to  answer  to  a  charge  of  felony.  And 
Faustina  was  a  woman  of  high  rank,  at  least  by  marriage.  Sho 
was  the  Honorable  Mrs.  Dugald;  and  she  was  about  to  be  ar 
raigned  upon  several  charges,  the  lightest  one  of  which,  if 
proved,  would  consign  her  to  penal  servitude  for  years. 

The  world  had  got  wind  of  this  trial,  and  hence  the  great 
crowd  that  blocked  up  every  approach  to  the  courthouse. 

Two  policemen  had  to  clear  a  way  for  the  carriage  combining 
the  witnesses  for  the  prosecution  to  draw  up.  And  wi.cn  it 
stopped  and  its  party  alighted,  the  same  two  policemen  had  to 
walk  before  them  to  open  a  path  for  their  entrance  into  the 
courthouse. 

Here  every  lobby,  staircase,  passage,  and  anteroom  was  full 
of  curious  people,  pressed  against  each  other.  These  p^oplo 
could  not  get  into  the  courtroom,  which  was  already  crowded 
as  full  as  it  could  be  packed;  nor  could  they  see  or  hear  any 
thing  from  where  they  stood ;  and  yet  they  persisted  in  standing 
there,  crowding  each  other  nearly  to  death,  and  stretching  their 
necks  and  straining  their  eyes  and  ears  after  sensational  sights 
and  sounds. 

Through  this  consolidated  mass  of  human  beings  the  police 
men  found  great  difficulty  in  forcing  a  passage  for  the  wit 
nesses.  But  at  length  they  succeeded,  and  ushered  the  party 
into  the  courtroom,  and  seated  them  upon  the  bench  appointed 
to  the  use  of  the  witnesses  for  the  prosecution. 

The  courtroom  was  even  more  densely  packed  than  the  ap 
proaches  to  it  had  been.  It  was  scarcely  possible  to  breitho 
the  air  laden  with  the  breath  of  so  many  human  beings.  But 
"or  the  inconvenience  of  the  great  crowd  and  the  fetid  air,  this 
was  an  interesting  place  to  pass  a  few  hours  in. 

The  Lord  Chief  Baron,  Sir  Archibald  Alexander,  presided  on 
the  bench.  He  was  supported  on  the  right  and  left  by  Jus 
tices  Knox  and  Blair.  Some  of  the  most  distinguished  advo» 
cates  of  the  Scottish  bar  were  present. 

The  prisoner  had  not  yet  been  brought  into  court.     A  fsw. 


THE  FATE   OF  FAUSTIKA.  435 

minutes  passed,  however,  and  then,  by  the  commotion  near  the 
door  and  by  the  turning  simultaneously  of  hundreds  of  heads 
in  one  direction,  it  was  discovered  that  she  was  approaching  in 
custody  of  the  proper  officers.  Room  was  readily  made  for  her 
by  the  crowd  dividing  right  and  left  and  pressing  back  upon  it 
self,  like  the  waves  of  the  Red  Sea,  when  the  Israelites  passed 
over  it  dryshod.  And  she  was  led  up  between  two  bailiffs  and 
placed  in  the  dock.  Then  for  the  first  time  the  crowd  got  a 
good  view  of  her,  for  the  dock  was  raised  some  three  or  four 
feet  above  the  level  of  the  floor. 

She  was  well  dressed  for  the  occasion,  for  if  there  was  one 
thing  this  woman  understood  better  than  another,  it  was  the 
science  of  the  toilet.  She  wore  a  dark-brown  silk  dress  and  a 
dark-brown  velvet  bonnet,  and  a  Russian  sable  cloak,  and 
cuffs,  and  muff,  and 'her  face  was  shaded  by  a  delicate  black 
lace  veil. 

Mrs.  MacDonald,  who  had  followed  her  into  tne  court,  was 
allowed  to  sit  beside  her;  a  privilege  that  the  lady  availed  her 
self  of,  at  some  considerable  damage  to  her  own  personal  dig 
nity;  for  at  least  one-half  of  the  strangers  in  the  room,  judg 
ing  from  her  position  beside  the  criminal,  mistook  her  for  an 
accomplice  in  the  crime. 

After  the  usual  preliminary  forms  had  been  observed,  the 
prisoner  was  duly  arraigned  at  the  bar. 

When  asked  by  the  clerk  of  arraignments  whether  she  were 
guilty  or  not  guilty,  she  answered  vehemently : 

"  I  am  not  guilty  of  anything  at  all ;  no,  not  I !  I  never  did 
conspire  against  any  lady !  My  Lord  Viscount  Vincent  and  his 
valet  Frisbie  did  that!  And  I  never  did  abduct  and  sell  into 
slavery  any  negro  persons!  My  Lord  Vincent  and  his  valel 
did  that  also !  It  was  all  the  doings  of  my  lord  and  his  valet, 
as  you  may  know,  since  the  valet  has  been  guillotined  and  my 
lord  has  suffocated  himself  with  charcoal!  And  it  is  a  great 
infamy  to  persecute  a  poor  little  woman  for  what  gross  big 
men  did !  And  I  tell  you,  messieurs " 

"  That  will  do !  This  is  no  time  for  making  your  defense, 
but  only  for  entering  your  plea,"  said  the  clerk,  cutting  short 
her  oration. 

She  threw  herself  into  a  chair  and  burst  into  tears,  and 
sobbed  aloud  while  the  Queen's  Solicitor,  Counselor  Birnie,  got 
up  to  open  the  indictment  setting  forth  tha  charges  upon  which 
the  prisoner  at  the  bar  had  been  arraigned. 


436        SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

At  the  end  of  the  opening  speech  he  proceeded  to  call  the  wit 
nesses,  and  the  first  called  to  the  stand  was: 

"  Claudia  Dugald,  Viscountess  Vincent." 

Judge  Merlin  arose  and  led  his  daughter  to  the  stand,  and 
then  retired. 

Claudia  threw  aside  her  deep  mourning  veil,  revealing  her 
beautiful  pale  face,  at  the  sight  of  which  a  murmur  of  admira 
tion  ran  through  the  crowded  courtroom. 

The  oath  was  duly  administered,  Claudia  following  the  words 
of  the  formula,  in  a  low,  but  clear  and  firm  voice. 

Oh!  but  her  position  was  a  painful  one!  Gladly  would  she 
have  retired  from  it;  but  the  exactions  of  justice  are  inex 
orable.  It  was  distressing  to  her  to  stand  there  and  give  testi 
mony  against  the  prisoner,  which  should  cast  such  shame  upon 
the  grave  of  the  dumb,  defenseless  dead;  yet  it  was  inevitable 
that  she  must  do  it.  She  was  under  oath,  and  so  she  must  tes 
tify  to  "  the  truth,  the  whole  truth,  and  nothing  but  the  truth !  " 

Then  being  questioned,  she  spoke  of  the  sinful  league  between 
Faustina  Dugald,  the  prisoner  at  the  bar,  and  the  deceased  Vis 
count  Vincent;  she  then  related  the  conversation  she  had  over 
heard  between  these  two  accomplices  on  the  very  night  of  her 
first  arrival  home  at  Castle  Cragg;  that  momentous  conversa 
tion  in  which  the  first  germ  of  the  conspiracy  against  her  honor 
was  formed;  being  further  questioned,  she  acknowledged  the 
complete  estrangement  between  herself  and  her  husband,  and 
the  actual  state  of  widowhood  in  which  she  had  lived  in  his 
house,  while  his  time  and  attention  were  all  devoted  to  her 
rival,  the  prisoner  at  the  bar. 

Here  Claudia  begged  leave  to  retire  from  the  stand;  but  of 
course  she  was  not  permitted  to  do  so;  the  Queen's  Solicitor 
had  not  done  with  her  yet.  She  was  required  to  relate  the  in 
cidents  of  that  evening  when  the  valet  Frisbie  was  dragged  from 
his  hiding-place  in  her  boudoir  by  the  Viscount  Vincent.  And 
amid  fiery  blushes  Claudia  detailed  all  the  circumstances  of 
that  scene.  She  was  but  slightly  cross-questioned  by  the  counsel 
for  the  prisoner,  and  without  effect,  and  was  finally  permitted  to 
retire.  Her  father  came  and  led  her  back  to  her  seat. 

The  housekeeper  of  Castle  Cragg  was  the  next  witness 
called,  and  she  testified  with  a  marked  reluctance,  that  only 
served  to  give  additional  weight  to  her  statement,  to  the  sinful 
intimacy  between  the  deceased  viscount  and  the  prisoner  at 
the  ban 


THE    FATE    OF    FAUSTINA.  437 

Following  her  came  old  Cuthbert,  who  sadly  corroborated  her 
testimony  in  all  respects. 

Next  came  other  servants  of  the  castle,  all  with  much  dislike 
to  do  the  duty,  speaking  to  the  one  point  of  the  fatal  attach 
ment  that  had  existed  between  Lord  Vincent  and  Mrs.  Dugald. 

And  then  at  length  came  Katie.  Now  we  all  know  the  facts 
to  which  Katie  would  bear  testimony,  and  the  style  in  which 
she  would  do  it;  and  so  we  need  not  repeat  her  statement  here. 
It  was  sufficiently  conclusive  to  insure  the  conviction  of  the 
prisoner,  even  if  there  had  been  nothing  to  support  it. 

But  the  most  fatal  evidence  was  yet  to  be  produced:  The 
Reverend  Christian  Godfree,  chaplain  of  the  jail,  was  called  to 
the  stand  and  duly  sworn.  And  then  a  manuscript  was  placed 
in  his  hand,  and  he  was  asked  if  he  could  identify  that  as  the 
veritable  last  confession  made  by  the  convict,  Alick  Frisbie, 
in  his  cell,  on  the  night  previous  to  his  execution.  Mr.  Godfree 
carefully  examined  it  and  promptly  identified  it. 

But  here  the  counsel  for  the  prisoner  interposed,  and  would 
have  had  the  confession  ruled  out  as  evidence;  and  a  contro 
versy  arose  between  the  prosecution  and  the  defense,  which 
was  at  last  decided  by  the  bench,  who  ordered  that  the  confession 
of  Alick  Frisbie  should  be  received  as  evidence  in  the  case  of 
Faustina  Dugald. 

And  then  the  Queen's  Solicitor,  taking  the  paper  from  the 
witness,  proceeded  to  read  the  confession  with  all  its  deeply 
disgraceful  revelations.  From  it,  the  complicity  of  Faustina 
Dugald  in  the  conspiracy  against  Lady  Vincent  was  clearly 
shown.  Having  read  it  through,  the  solicitor  called  several 
witnesses  from  among  the  servants  of  the  castle,  who  swore  to 
the  signature  at  the  bottom  of  the  confession  as  the  handwrit 
ing  of  Alick  Frisbie.  And  then  the  solicitor  passed  the  paper 
to  the  foreman  of  the  jury,  that  he  might  circulate  it  among  his 
colleagues' for  their  examination  and  satisfaction.  The  solicitor 
then  summed  up  the  evidence  for  the  prosecution  and  rested 
the  case. 

Mr.  Bruce,  leading  counsel  for  the  prisoner,  arose  and  made 
the  best  defense  that  the  bad  case  admitted  of.  He  tried  to  pull 
to  pieces,  destroy,  and  discredit  the  evidence  that  had  been  given 
in ;  but  all  to  no  purpose.  He  next  tried  to  engage  the  sympa 
thy  of  the  judge  and  jury  for  the  beauty  and  misfortunes  of  his 
client;  but  in  vr.in.  Finolly,  he  called  a  number  of  paid  wit 
nesses,  who  testified  chiefly  to  the  excellent  moral  character  of 


438         SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

Mrs.  Faustina  Dugald,  seeking  to  make  it  appear  quite  impossi' 
ble  that  she  should  do  any  wrong  whatever,  much  less  commit 
the  crimes  for  which  she  stood  arraigned ;  and  also  to  the  malig 
nant  envy,  hatred,  and  malice  felt  by  every  servant  at  Castle 
Cragg  and  every  witness  for  the  prosecution  against  the  in 
jured  and  unhappy  prisoner  at  the  bar,  seeking  to  make  it  ap 
pear  that  all  their  testimony  was  nothing  but  malignant  cal 
umny  leveled  against  injured  innocence. 

But,  unfortunately  for  the  defense,  the  only  impression  these 
witnesses  made  upon  the  judge  and  the  jury  was  that  they — 
the  witnesses — were  about  the  most  shameless  falsifiers  of  the 
truth  that  ever  perjured  themselves  before  a  court  of  justice. 

The  counsel  for  the  prisoner  went  over  the  evidence  for  the 
defense  in  an  eloquent  speech,  which  was  worse  than  wasted  in 
such  evil  service. 

The  Queen's  Solicitor  had,  as  usual,  the  last  word. 

The  Lord  Chief  Baron  then  summed  up  the  evidence  on 
either  side  and  charged  the  jury.  And  the  charge  amounted  in 
effect  to  an  instruction  to  them  to  bring  in  a  verdict  against 
the  prisoner.  And  accordingly  the  jury  retired  and  consulted 
about  twenty  minutes,  and  then  returned  with  the  verdict: 
"  Guilty." 

The  Lord  Chief  Baron  arose  to  pronounce  the  sentence  of  the 
law. 

The  clerk  of  the  arraigns  ordered  the  prisoner  to  stand  up. 

"  What  are  they  going  to  do  now  ? "  nervously  inquired  Faus 
tina,  who  did  not  in  the  least  understand  what  was  going  on. 

"Nothing  much,  my  dear;  his  lordship  the  judge  is  going  to 
speak  to  you  from  the  bench.  That  is  all,"  said  Mrs.  MacDon- 
ald,  as  she  helped  the  prisoner  to  her  feet;  for  Mrs.  MacDon- 
ald  never  hesitated  to  tell  a  falsehood  for  the  sake  of  keeping 
the  peace. 

Faustina  stood  up,  looking  towards  the  bench  with  curiosity, 
distrust,  and  fear. 

The  Lord  Chief  Baron  began  the  usual  prosing  preamble  to 
the  sentence,  telling  the  prisoner  of  the  enormity  of  the  crime 
of  which  she  had  been  accused;  of  the  perfect  impartiality  of 
the  trial  to  which  she  had  been  subjected;  the  complete  conclu- 
siveness  of  the  evidence  on  which  she  had  been  convicted ;  and 
so  forth.  He  gave  her  to  understand  that  the  court  might  easily 
sentence  her  to  fifteen  or  twenty  years'  imprisonment ;  but  that, 
in  consideration  of  her  early  youth  and  of  her  utter  failure  to 


LADY   HURSTMONCEUX'S   REVELATION.  431? 

carry  out  her  felonious  purposes  to  their  completion,  he  would 
assign  her  a  milder  penalty.  And  he  proceeded  to  sentence  her 
to  penal  servitude  for  the  term  of  ten  years.  The  Lord  Chief 
Baron  resumed  his  seat. 

Faustina  threw  a  wild,  perplexed,  appealing-  glance  around 
the  courtroom,  and  then,  as  the  truth  of  her  doom  entered  her 
soul,  she  uttered  a  piercing  shriek  and  fell  into  violent  hys 
terics.  And  in  this  condition  she  was  removed  from  the  court 
to  the  jail,  there  to  remain  until  she  should  be  transported  to 
the  scene  of  her  punishment. 

"  We  have  nothing  more  to  do  here,  Judge  Merlin.  Had  you 
not  better  take  Lady  Vincent  back  to  the  hotel  ? "  suggested 
Ishmael. 

The  judge,  who  had  been  sitting  as  if  spellbound,  started  up, 
gave  his  arm  to  his  daughter,  and  led  her  out  of  the  court  and 
to  the  fly  that  was  in  attendance  to  convey  them  back  to  the 
"  Highlander."  Ishmael  followed,  with  the  countess  on  his 
arm.  And  the  professor,  having  the  three  negroes  in  charge, 
brought  up  the  rear.  Judge  Merlin,  Ishmael,  Claudia  and  the 
countess  entered  the  fly.  The  professor  and  his  charges  walked. 
And  thus  they  reached  the  "  Highlander,"  where  the  news  of 
Faustina  Dugald's  conviction  had  preceded  them. 

The  trial  had  occupied  the  whole  day.  It  was  now  late  in 
the  evening;  too  late  for  our  party  to  think  of  going  on  to 
Edinboro'  that  night.  Besides,  they  all  needed  rest  after  the 
exciting  scenes  of  the  day;  and  so  they  determined  to  remain  in 
Banff  that  night. 


CHAPTEK  L. 

LADY  HURSTMONCEUX'S  REVELATION1. 

For  life,  I  prize  It, 

As  I  weigh  grief  which  I  would  spare;  for  honor, 
Tis  a  derivative  from  me  to  mine, 
And  only  that  I  stand  for. 

— Shakspeare. 

That  same  evening,  while  our  party  was  assembled  at  tea  ID 
tteir  private  parlor,  at  the  "  Highlander,"  a  letter  was  brought 
to  Judge  Merlin. 

It  was  a  formidable-looking  letter,  with  a  black  border  an  incfr 


440        SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

wide  running  around  the  envelope,  and  sealed  with  a  great 
round  of  black  wax,  impressed  with  an  earl's  coronet.  The 
judge  opened  it  and  read  it  and  passed  it  to  Ishmael. 

It  proved  to  be  a  letter  from  the  Earl  of  Hurstmonceux  and 
addressed  to  Judge  Merlin.  I  have  not  space  to  give  the  con 
tents  of  this  letter  word  for  word. 

It  set  forth,  in  effect,  that  under  the  recent  distressing  cir 
cumstances  it  would  be  too  painful  to  the  Earl  of  Hurstmon 
ceux  to  meet  Judge  Merlin  in  a  personal  interview,  but  that  the 
earl  wished  to  make  an  act  of  restitution,  and  so,  if  Judge  Mer 
lin  would  dispatch  his  solicitor  to  London  to  the  chambers  of 
the  Messrs.  Hudson,  in  Burton  Street,  Piccadilly,  those  gentle 
men,  who  were  the  solicitors  of  his  lordship,  would  be  prepared 
to  restore  to  Lady  Vincent  the  fortune  she  had  brought  in  mar 
riage  to  her  husband,  the  late  Lord  Vincent. 

"You  will  go  to  London  and  attend  to  this  matter  for  me, 
Ishmael?"  inquired  the  judge,  as  he  received  the  letter  back, 
after  the  young  man  had  read  it. 

"  Why,  certainly,  Judge  Merlin.  Who  should  act  for  you  but 
myself  ? "  said  Ishmael,  with  an  affectionate  smile. 

"  But  it  may  be  inconvenient  for  you  to  go  just  now  ? "  sug 
gested  the  judge. 

"  Oh,  no,  not  at  all  I  In  fact,  judge,  I  was  intending  to  go  up 
to  London  to  join  Mr.  Brudenell  there  in  a  very  few  days.  I 
was  only  waiting  for  this  trial  to  be  concluded  before  setting 
out,"  smiled  Ishmael. 

"  Papa,  what  is  it  that  you  are  talking  about  ?  What  letter  is 
that?"  inquired  Claudia,  while  Lady  Hurstmonceux  looked 
the  question  she  forbore  to  ask. 

For  all  answer  the  judge  placed  the  letter  in  the  hands  of 
his  daughter,  and  then,  turning  to  the  countess,  said: 

"It  is  a  communication  from  Lord  Hurstmonceux,  referring 
os  to  his  solicitors  in  London,  whom  he  has  instructed  to  make 
restitution  of  the  whole  of  my  daughter's  fortune." 

"  The  Earl  of  Hurstmonceux  is  an  honorable  man.  But  he 
has  been  singularly  unfortunate  in  his  family.  His  brother  and 
his  sons,  who  seem  to  have  taken  more  after  their  uncle  than 
their  father,  have  all  turned  out  badly  and  given  him  much 
trouble,"  said  the  countess 

"His  brother?  I  know  of  course  the  career  of  his  sons;  but 
%  did  not  know  anything  about  his  brother,"  said  Jiidgre  Merlin. 

*'He  was  the  Honorable  Dromlie  Dugald.   Captain   in  the 


LADY   HURSTMONCEUX'S   REVELATION,  44'i 

Tenth  Highlanders,  a  man  whose  society  was  avoided  by  all  good 
women.  And  yet  I  had  cause  to  know  him  well,"  answered  the 
countess,  as  a  cloud  passed  over  her  beautiful  face. 

"You,  Berenice  I"  said  Claudia,  looking  up  in  surprise;  for 
it  was  passing  strange  to  hear  that  pure  and  noble  woman  ac 
knowledge  an  acquaintance  with  a  man  of  whom  she  had  just 
said  that  every  good  woman  avoided  his  society. 

"  I ! "  repeated  the  countess  solemnly. 

There  was  certainly  fate  in  the  next  words  she  spoke: 

"  This  Captain  Dugald  was  a  near  relative  and  great  favorite 
with  my  first  husband,  the  old  Earl  of  Hurstmonceux ;  chiefly,, 
I  think,  for  the  exuberant  gayety  of  temper  and  disposition  of 
the  young  man,  that  always  kept  the  old  one  amused.  But  after 
the  earl  married  me  he  turned  a  cold  shoulder  to  the  captainv 
and  complimented  me  by  being  jealous  of  him.  This  occa 
sioned  gossip,  in  which  my  good  name  suffered  some  injustice." 

The  countess  paused,  and  turned  her  beautiful  eyes  appeal- 
ingly  to  Ishmael,  saying : 

"  When  you  shall  become  one  of  the  lawgivers  of  your  native 
country,  young  gentleman,  I  hope  that  the  crime  of  slander 
will  be  made  a  felony,  indictable  before  your  criminal  courts." 

"If  I  had  the  remodeling  of  the  laws,"  said  Ishmael  ear 
nestly,  "  slander  should  be  made  felonious  and  punishable  as 
theft  is." 

"But,  dear  Berenice,  the  gossip  of  which  you  speak  could 
have  done  you  no  lasting  injury,"  said  Claudia. 

" '  No  lasting  injury.'  Well,  no  eternal  injury,  I  hope,  if  yo;j 
mean  that,"  sighed  the  countess. 

"  No,  I  mean  to  say  that  a  woman  like  yourself  lives  down 
calumny." 

"  Ah !  but  in  the  living  it  down,  how  much  of  heartwasting." 

The  countess  dropped  her  head  upon  her  hand  for  a  moment, 
while  all  her  long  black  ringlets  fell  around  and  veiled  her 
pale  and  thoughtful  face.  Then,  looking  up,  she  said: 

"  I  think  I  will  tell  you  all  about  it.  Something,  I  know  not 
what,  impels  me  to  speak  to-night,  in  this  little  circle  of 
select  friends,  on  a  theme  on  which  I  have  been  silent  for  years, 
Olaitdia,  my  dearest,  if  the  jealousy  of  my  old  husband  and  the 
gossip  of  my  envious  rivals  had  been  all,  that  would  not  have 
hurt  me  so  much.  But  there  was  worse  to  come.  The  wretch, 
denied  admittance  to  our  house,  pursued  me  with  his  atten 
tions  elsewhere;  whenever  and  wherever  I  walked  or  rode  outt 


442        SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

he  would  be  sure  to  join  me.     I  have  said  such  was  his  evfl 
reputation  that  his  society  would  have  brought   reproach   to 
any  woman,  under  any  circumstances;  judge  you,  then,  what< 
it  must  have  brought  upon  me,  the  young  wife  of  an  old  man !  " 

"  Had  you  no  male  relative  to  chastise  the  villain  and  send 
him  about  his  business  ?  "  inquired  the  judge. 

Berenice  smiled  sadly  and  shook  her  head. 

"  My  husband  and  my  father  were  both  very  old  men,"  she 
said ;  "  I  had  but  one  resource — to  confine  myself  to  the  house 
and  deny  myself  to  visitors.  We  were  then  living  in  our  town 
house  in  Edinboro'.  There  my  old  husband  died,  and  there  I 
spent  the  year  of  my  widowhood.  There  my  father  came  to  me, 
and  also  my  kinsman  Isaacs." 

"  Isaacs ! "  impulsively  exclaimed  Ishmael,  as  his  thoughts 
flew  back  to  his  Hebrew  fellow-passenger. 

"  Yes ;  did  you  know  him  ? " 

"I  knew  a  Jew  of  that  name;  most  probably  the  same;  but 
\  beg  your  pardon,  dear  lady ;  pray  proceed  with  your  narrative." 

"  I  mentioned  my  kinsman  Isaacs,  because  I  always  suspected 
liim  to  be  a  party  to  a  stratagem  formed  by  Captain  Dugald  at 
that  time  to  get  me  into  his  power.  Captain  Dugald  scarcely 
let  the  first  six  months  of  my  widowhood  pass  by  before  he  be 
gan  to  lay  siege  to  my  house;  not  to  me  personally;  for  I  al 
ways  denied  myself  to  him.  But  he  came  on  visits  to  my  kins 
man  Isaacs,  with  whom  he  had  struck  up  a  great  intimacy.  He 
had  much  at  stake,  you  see,  for  in  the  firs!  place  he  did  me  the 
honor  to  approve  of  me  personally,  and  in  the  second  place  he 
liighly  approved  of  my  large  fortune.  So  he  persevered  with  all 
the  zeal  of  a  lover  and  all  the  tact  of  a  fortune-hunter.  Several 
times,  through  the  connivance  of  my  kinsman,  he  contrived  to 
surprise  me  into  an  interview,  and  upon  each  occasion  he  urged 
his  suit;  but  of  course,  in  vain.  Captain  Dugald  was  what  is 
called  a  '  dare-devil/  and  I  think  he  rather  gloried  in  that 
name.  He  acted  upon  the  maxim  that  '  all  stratagems  are  fair 
in  love  as  in  war.'  And  he  resorted  to  a  stratagem  to  get  me  into 
his  power,  and  reduce  me  to  the  alternative  of  marrying  him 
or  losing  my  good  name  forever." 

u  Good  Heaven !  he  did  not  attempt  to  carry  you  off  by  vio 
lence,"  exclaimed  Claudia. 

The  countess  laughed. 

"Oh,  no,  my  dear!  Rnoh  things  are  never  attempted  in  this 
age  of  the  world.  Captain  Dugald  was  far  too  astute  to  break 


LADY    IIUESTMONCEUX'S   REVELATION.  443 

the  laws.  I  will  tell  you  just  how  it  was,  as  it  came  to  my  knowl 
edge.  My  town  house  fronted  immediately  on  Prince's  Street. 
You  know  what  a  thoroughfare  that  is?  My  bedroom  and 
dressing  room  were  on  the  second  floor — the  bedroom  being 
at  the  back,  and  the  dressing  room  in  front,  with  three  large 
windows  overlooking  the  street.  Large  double  doors  connected 
the  bedroom  with  the  dressing  room.  I  am  thus  particular  in. 
describing  the  locality  that  you  may  better  understand  the  vil 
lainy  of  the  stratagem,"  said  the  countess,  looking  around  upon 
her  friends. 

They  nodded  assent,  and  she  resumed: 

"  From  some  peculiar  sensitiveness  of  temperament,  I  can 
never  sleep  unless  every  ray  of  light  is  shut  out  from  my  cham 
ber.  Thus,  at  bedtime  I  have  all  my  windows  closed,  their 
shutters  fastened  and  their  curtains  drawn,  lest  the  first  dawn 
of  morning  should  awaken  me  prematurely.  Another  con 
stitutional  idiosyncrasy  of  mine  is  the  necessity  of  a  great  deal 
of  air.  Therefore  I  always  had  the  doors  between  my  bedroom 
and  my  dressing  room  left  open." 

"  After  all,  that  is  like  my  own  need ;  I  require  a  great  deal  of 
air  also,"  said  Claudia. 

"  Well,  now  to  my  story.  On  a  certain  spring  morning,  in 
the  beginning  of  the  second  year  of  my  widowhood,  I  was 
awakened  very  early  by  a  glare  of  light  in  my  bedroom.  On 
looking  up,  I  saw  through  the  open  doors  connecting  my  bed 
room  with  my  dressing  room  that  the  three  front  windows  of  the 
dressing  room,  overlooking  the  street,  were  open,  and  all  the 
morning  sunlight  was  pouring  in.  My  first  emotion  was  anger 
•with  my  maid  for  opening  them  so  soon  to  wake  me  up.  I  got 
out  of  bed,  slipped  on  a  dressing-gown  and  went  into  the  front 
room.  Now  judge  what  my  feelings  must  have  been  to  see  there 
Captain  Dugald  in  his  shirt-sleeves,  standing  before  one  of  the 
front  windows  deliberately  brushing  his  hair,  in  the  full  view 
of  all  the  passengers  of  the  street  below." 

"  Great  Heaven !  "  exclaimed  Claudia. 

"I  could  not  speak,"  continued  the  countess.  "I  could  only 
stand  and  gaze  at  the  man  in  speechless  amazement.  But  he 
•was  not  dismayed.  He  burst  into  a  loud  laugh,  and  laughed 
himself  out  of  breath — for  he  was  a  great  laugher.  When  he 
found  his  tongue,  he  said  to  me : 

'  You  had  as  well  give  in  now,  my  lady.     The  fortress  is 
sapped,  the  mine  is  exploded.    The  city  is  taken.    Hundreds  of 


444  SELF-RAISED  J    OR,    FROM   THE    DEPTHS. 

people,  passing  up  and  down  the  street  before  this  house,  have 
looked  up  at  these  windows  and  seen  me  standing  here  half- 
dressed.  And  they  have  formed  their  opinions,  and  made  their 
comments,  and  circulated  their  news  accordingly;  and  so,  if  our 
marriage  be  not  published  this  morning,  you  may  judge  what 
the  consequences  will  be — to  yourself.' " 

"  What  a  villain !  "  said  Judge  Merlin. 

"Astonishment  had  struck  me  dumb  in  the  first  instance; 
and  anger  kept  me  silent,"  continued  the  countess.  "  I  know 
what  I  ought  to  have  done.  I  know  that  I  ought  to  have  sum 
moned  the  police  and  given  the  man  in  charge  on  the  spot,  as 
a  common  burglar  and  housebreaker:  only  you  see  I  did  not 
think  of  it  at  the  time.  I  only  rang  the  bell,  and  then,  with 
out  waiting  the  arrival  of  my  servant,  I  opened  the  door  and 
pointed  silently  to  it.  He  made  no  motion  to  go ;  on  the  contrary, 
he  began  to  defend  his  act,  to  plead  his  cause,  and  to  urge  his 
suit.  He  said  *  that  all  stratagems  were  fair  in  love  and  war ' ; 
that  it  was  now  absolutely  necessary  for  my  fair  name  that  we 
should  be  immediately  married;  that  the  bride  he  had  won.  by 
fraud  should  be  worn  with  f aithf ulness.  But,  with  an  unmo\  ed 
countenance,  I  only  pointed  to  the  door,  until  my  servant  came 
in  answer  to  the  bell.  Then  I  told  that  servant  to  show  Captain 
Dugald  out,  and  if  he  refused  to  go  to  summon  assistance  and 
eject  him.  Seeing  that  I  was  determined  to  be  rid  of  him,  ho 
put  on  his  coat,  and,  laughing  at  my  discomfiture,  took  his  de 
parture.  Then  I  instituted  inquiries;  but  failed  to  gain  any 
information  respecting  his  means  of  entrance  and  concealment 
in  my  apartments.  I  strongly  suspected  my  kinsman  Isaacs 
of  being  the  accomplice  of  Captain  Dugald ;  but  I  had  no  means 
of  ascertaining  the  fact  by  questioning  him,  as  he  went  away 
that  same  morning  and  never  returned.  The  adventure,  of 
course,  did  me  some  harm  at  the  time;  but  the  unprincipled 
hero  of  it  reaped  no  advantage.  He  doubtless  thought  me  an 
other  Lucretia,  who  would  sacrifice  the  reality  to  preserve  the 
semblance  of  honor.  He  hoped  to  find  in  me  one  who,  in  the 
base  fear  of  being  falsely  condemned,  would  marry  a  man  I  de 
spised,  and  thus  really  deserve  condemnation.  He  was  disap 
pointed  !  From  that  hour  I  forbade  him  the  house,  and  I  have 
never  seen  him  since.  A  year  later  I  married  another,"  added 
the  countess,  in  a  voice  so  subdued  that,  at  the  close  of  the  sen 
tence,  it  gradually  sank  into  silence. 

Ishmael's  beautiful  eyes  had  been  bent  upon  her  all  the  time; 


LADY  HURSTMONCEUX'S  REVELATION.     445 

now  his  whole  face  lighted  up  with  a  smile  as  of  a  newly  in 
spired,  benevolent  hope. 

"  You  were  right — entirely  right,  Lady  Hurstmonceux,  in 
thus  vindicating  the  dignity  of  womanhood.  And  I  do  not  be 
lieve  that  any  lasting  blame,  growing  out  of  a  misunderstanding 
of  the  circumstances,  could  have  attached  to  you,"  said  Ishmael 
earnestly. 

"  No,  indeed,  there  was  not.  And  soon  after  that  event  I 
left  Edinboro'  for  the  south  coast  of  England,  and  at  Brighton  " 
— here  the  voice  of  the  countess  sank  almost  to  an  inaudible 
whisper — "  at  Brighton  I  met  and  married  another.  And  now 
let  us  talk  of  something  else,  Ishmael,"  she  concluded,  turning 
an  affectionate  glance  upon  the  sympathetic  face  of  the  young 
man.  For  there  was  a  wonderful  depth  of  sympathy  between 
this  queenly  woman  of  forty-five  and  this  princely  young  man 
of  twenty-two.  On  her  side  there  was  the  royal,  benignant, 
tender  friendship  with  which  such  sovereign  ladies  regard  such 
young  men;  while,  on  his  side,  there  was  the  loyal  devotion 
with  which  such  young  men  worship  such  divinities.  Such  a 
friendship  is  a  blessing  when  it  is  understood;  a  curse  when  it 
is  misapprehended. 

Ishmael  turned  the  conversation  to  the  subject  of  the  act 
of  restitution  proposed  by  the  Earl  of  Hurstmonceux. 

Ishmael  now  possessed  the  only  clear,  cool,  and  undisturbed 
intelligence  of  the  whole  party,  who  were  all  more  or  less  shaken 
by  the  terrible  events  of  the  last  few  days.  He  had  to  think 
for  therr  all.  He  announced  his  intention  of  departing  for 
London  on  the  ensuing  Friday  morning,  and  warned  the  judge 
that  he  should  require  his  final  instructions  for  acting  in  con 
cert  with  the  solicitors  of  the  Earl  of  Hurstmonceux. 

The  judge  promised  that  these  should  be  ready,  in  writing,  to 
plate  in  his  hands  at  the  moment  of  his  departure. 

"  And  while  I  am  in  London,  had  I  not  better  see  the  agents 
of  the  ocean  steamers,  and  ascertain  how  soon  we  can  obtain 
a  passage  home  for  our  whole  party  ?  The  termination  of  these 
trials,  and  the  restitution  of  Lady  Vincent's  estate,  really  leave 
us  nothing  to  do  here;  and  we  know  that  Lady  Vincent  is  pin 
ing  for  the  repose  of  her  native  home,"  said  Ishmael. 

"  Certainly,  certainly,  Ishmael !  The  execution  of  Frisbie, 
the  death  of  the  viscount,  the  conviction  of  Mrs.  Dugald,  and 
the  act  of  the  Earl  of  Hurstmonceux,  really,  as  you  say,  leave  us 
free  to  go  home.  I  myself,  as  well  as  Claudia,  pine  for  my 


446  SELF-RAISED  J    OB,  FROM   THE   DEPTHS. 

home.  And  you,  Ishmael,  though  you  have  not  said  so,  have 
sacrificed  already  too  much  of  your  professional  interests  to 
our  necessities.  You  should  be  at  your  office.  What  on  earth 
is  becoming  of  your  clients  all  this  time  ? " 

"I  dare  say  they  are  taken  good  care  of,  sir.  Do  not  think 
of  me.  Believe  me,  I  have  no  interests  dearer  to  my  heart  than 
the  welfare  and  happiness  of  my  friends.  Then  I  shall  engage 
a  passage  for  us  all,  in  the  first  available  steamer  ? " 

"  I — I  think  so,  Ishmael.  There  is  nothing  to  keep  us  here 
longer  that  I  know  of;  we  have  nothing  to  do,"  said  the  judge 
hesitatingly. 

"  I  have  something  yet  to  do,  before  I  return  home,"  smiled 
Ishmael,  with  a  quick  and  quickly  withdrawn  glance  in  the  di 
rection  of  the  countess ;  "  but  I  shall  do  it  before  we  go,  or  if 
not  I  can  remain  behind  for  another  steamer." 

"  No,  no,  Ishmael !  You  have  stayed  long  with  us ;  we  will 
wait  for  you.  What  do  you  say,  Claudia?" 

Claudia  said  nothing. 

Ishmael  replied: 

"  I  shall  endeavor  to  accomplish  all  that  I  propose  in  time  to 
accompany  you,  Judge  Merlin.  But  if  I  should  not  be  able  to 
do  so,  still  I  think  that  you  had  better  all  go  by  the  first  steamer 
in  which  you  can  get  a  passage.  You  should,  if  possible,  cross 
the  ocean  before  March  sets  in,  if  you  would  have  anything  like 
a  comfortable  voyage." 

"Heavens,  yes!  you  are  right,  Ishmael.  Our  late  voyap-e 
should  teach  me  a  lesson.  I  must  not  expose  Claudia  to  the 
chances  of  such  shipwreck  as  we  suffered,"  said  the  judge 
gravely. 

Ishmael  turned  and  looked  at  Claudia.  She  had  not  once 
spoken  since  her  name  had  been  introduced  into  the  conversa 
tion.  She  had  sat  there  with  her  elbow  on  the  table  and  her 
head  bowed  upon  her  hand,  in  mournful  silence.  She  was  look 
ing  perfectly  beautiful  in  her  widow's  dress  and  cap — per 
fectly  beautiful  with  that  last  divine,  perfecting  touch  that  sor 
row  gives  to  beauty.  Surely  Ishmael  thought  so  as  he  looked 
at  her.  She  lifted  her  drooping  lids.  Their  eyes  met;  hers 
were  suffused  with  tears ;  his  were  full  of  earnest  sympathy. 

"  You  shall  not  be  exposed  to  shipwreck,  Lady  Vincent,"  lie 
said,  in  a  voice  rich  with  tenderness. 

Slowly  and  mournfully  she  shook  her  head. 

"  There  are  other  wrecks,"  she  said : 


LADY  HURSTMONCEUX'S  REVELATION.     447 

"  '  And  I  beneath  a  rougher  sea, 

O'erwhelrned  in  deeper  gulfs  may  be.' " 

The  last  words  were  breathed  in  a  scarcely  audible  voice, 
and  her  head  sank  low  upon  her  hand. 

With  a  profound  sigh,  that  seemed  to  come  from  the  very 
depths  of  his  soul,  Ishmael  turned  away.  Passing  near  the 
Countess  of  Hurstmonceux,  he  bent  his  head  and  murmured: 

"  Lady  Vincent  seems  very  weary." 

The  countess  took  the  hint  and  rang  for  the  bedroom  candles, 
and  when  they  were  brought,  the  party  bade  each  other  good 
night,  separated,  and  retired. 

Early  tho  next  morning  they  set  out  for  Edinboro',  where 
they  arrived  about  midday. 

The  Countess  of  Hurstmonceux's  servants,  who  had  received 
telegraphic  orders  from  her  ladyship,  were  waiting  at  the  sta 
tion  with  carriages.  The  whole  party  entered  these  and  drove 
to  Cameron  Court,  where  they  arrived  in  time  for  an  early 
dinner. 

After  this,  Ishmael  and  Judge  Merlin  were  closeted  in  the 
library,  and  engaged  upon  the  preliminary  measures  for  a  final 
arrangement  with  the  Earl  of  Hurstmonceux's  solicitors. 

The  judge,  in  his  good  opinion  of  the  earl,  would  have  trusted 
to  a  simple,  informal  rendition  of  his  daiighter's  fortune;  but 
Ishmael,  the  ever-watchful  guardian  of  her  .interests,  warned 
her  father  that  every  legal  form  must  be  scrupulously  observed 
in  the  restoration  of  the  property,  lest  in  the  event  of  the 
death  of  the  Earl  of  Hurstmonceux  his  brother  and  successor, 
the  disreputable  Captain  Dugald,  should  attempt  to  disturb  her 
in  its  possession. 

The  judge  acquiesced,  and  this  business  occupied  the  friends 
the  whole  of  that  afternoon.  In  the  evening  they  joined  the 
ladies  at  their  tea-table,  in  the  little  drawing  room.  After  tea, 
when  the  service  was  removed,  they  gathered  around  the  table 
in  social  converse. 

A  servant  brought  in  a  small  parcel  that  looked  like  a  case 
of  jewelry  done  up  in  paper,  and  laid  it  before  the  countess. 

She  smiled,  with  a  deprecating  look,  as  she  took  it  up  and 
opened  it  and  passed  it  around  to  her  friends  for  inspection. 
It  was  a  miniature  of  the  countess  herself,  painted  on  ivory. 
It  was  a  faithful  likeness,  apparently  very  recently  taken;  for, 
on  looking  at  it,  you  seemed  to  see  the  beautiful  countess  her- 
gelf  on  a  diminished  scale,  or  through  an  inverted  telescope, 


448         SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

"  It  has  been  making  a  visit,"  smiled  the  countess.  "  A  poor 
young  artist  in  Edinboro'  is  getting  up  a  '  Book  of  Beauty '  on 
his  own  account.  He  came  here  in  person  to  beg  the  loan  of  one 
of  my  portraits  to  engrave  from.  I  gave  him  this,  because  it 
was  the  last  I  had  taken.  I  gave  it  to  him  because  a  refusal 
from  me  would  have  wounded  his  feelings  and  discouraged  his 
enterprise.  Otherwise,  I  assure  you,  I  should  not  have  let  him 
have  it  for  any  such  purpose  as  he  designed.  For  the  idea  of 
putting  my  portrait  in  a  '  Book  of  Beauty '  is  a  rich  absurdity.' 

"  Pardon  me ;  I  do  not  see  the  absurdity  at  all,"  said  Ishmael 
earnestly,  as  in  his  turn  he  received  the  miniature  and  gazed 
with  admiration  on  its  beautiful  features. 

"  Young  gentleman,  I  am  forty-five,"  said  the  countess. 

Ishmael  gave  a  genuine  start  of  surprise.  He  knew  of  course 
that  she  must  have  been  of  that  age,  but  he  had  forgotten  the 
flight  of  time,  and  the  announcement  startled  him.  He  soon 
recovered  himself,  however,  and  answered  with  his  honest 
smile : 

"  Well,  my  lady,  if  you  are  still  beautiful  at  forty-five,  you 
cannot  help  it,  and  you  cannot  prevent  artistic  eyes  from  seeing 
it.  I,  as  one  of  your  friends,  am  glad  and  grateful  for  it.  And 
I  hope  you  will  remain  as  beautiful  in  form  as  in  spirit  even  to 
the  age  of  seventy-five,  or  as  long  after  that  as  you  may  live  in 
this  world." 

"  Thank  you,  Mr.  Worth.  I  really  do  value  praise  from  you, 
because  I  know  that  it  is  sincere  on  your  part,  if  not  merited 
on  mine,"  said  Lady  Hurstmonceux. 

Ishmael  bowed  low  and  in  silence.  Then  he  resumed  his  con 
templation  of  the  picture.  And  presently  he  looked  up  and 
said : 

"  Lady  Hurstmonceux,  I  am  going  to  ask  you  a  favor.  Will 
you  lend  me  this  picture  for  a  week  ? " 

The  countess  was  a  little  surprised  at  the  request.  She 
looked  up  at  Ishmael  before  answering  it. 

Their  eyes  met.  Some  mutual  intelligence  passed  in  those 
meeting  glances.  And  she  then  answered: 

"Yes,  Mr.  Worth.  I  will  intrust  it  to  you  as  long  as  you 
would  like  to  keep  it;  without  reserve,  and  without  even  ask 
ing  you  what  you  wish  to  do  with  it." 

Again  Ishmael  bowed,  and  then  he  closed  the  case  of  the 
miniature  and  deposited  it  in  his  breast-pocket. 

"I  hope  that  youth  is  not  falling  in  love  with  his  graud- 


ISHMAEL'S  EKKAND.  449 

mother.  I  have  heard  of  such  things  in  my  life,"  thought  the 
judge  crossly  within  himself,  for  the  judge  was  growing  jealous 
for  Claudia.  He  had  apparently  forgotten  the  existence  of 
Bee. 

As  Ishmael  was  to  leave  Cameron  Court  at  a  very  early 
hour  of  the  morning,  before  any  of  the  family  would  be  likely 
to  be  up  to  see  him  off,  he  took  leave  of  his  friends  upon  this 
evening,  and  retired  early  to  his  room  to  complete  his  prepara 
tions  for  the  journey. 

CHAPTEK  LI. 
ISHMAEL'S  ERRAND. 

I  tell  thee,  friend,  I  have  not  seen 

So  likely  an  ambassador  of  love; 

A  day  in  April  never  came  BO  sweet, 

To  show  that  costly  summer  was  at  hand. 

— Shakspeare. 

Ishmael  left  Edinboro'  by  the  earliest  express  train  for  Lon 
don,  where  he  arrived  at  nightfall. 

He  took  a  cab  and  drove  immediately  to  Morley's  Hotel  in 
the  Strand,  where  Herman  Brudenell  was  stopping. 

Carpet-bag  in  hand,  Ishmael  was  shown  into  that  gentleman's 
sitting  room. 

Mr.  Brudenell  sat  writing  at  a  table,  but  on  hearing  Mr. 
Worth  announced  and  seeing  him  enter,  he  started  up,  threw 
down  his  pen,  and  rushed  to  welcome  the  traveler. 

"  My  dear,  dear  boy,  a  thousand  welcomes ! "  he  exclaimed, 
heartily  shaking  Ishmael's  hands. 

"  I  am  very  glad  to  come  and  see  you  again,  sir.  I  hope  that 
you  are  quite  well  ? "  said  Ishmael,  cordially  responding  to  this 
warm  welcome. 

"  As  well  as  a  solitary  man  can  be,  my  dear  boy.  How  did  you 
leave  our  friends?  In  good  health,  I  trust" 

"  Yes ;  in  tolerably  good  health,  considering  the  circum 
stances.  They  are  of  course  somewhat  shaken  by  the  terri 
ble  events  of  the  last  few  days." 

"  I  should  think  so.  Heaven !  what  an  ordeal  to  have  passed 
through.  Poor  Claudia.  How  has  she  borne  it  all  ?  " 

"With  the  most  admirable  firmness.  Claudia — Lady  Vin 
cent,  I  should  say — has  come  out  of  her  fiery  trial  like  refined 
gold,"  said  Tshmael  warmly. 


450  SELF-KAISED  ;    OR,    FROM   THE   DEPTHS. 

"  A  fiery  trial,  indeed.  Ishmael,  I  have  read  the  full  account 
of  the  Banff  tragedy,  as  they  call  it,  in  all  the  morning  papers ; 
no  two  of  them  agreeing  in  all  particulars.  The  account  in  the 
'  Times '  I  hold  to  be  the  most  reliable ;  it  is  at  least  the  fullest 
— it  occupies  nearly  two  pages  of  that  great  paper." 

"  You  are  right ;  the  account  in  the  '  Times '  is  the  true  one." 

"  But,  bless  my  life,  I  am  keeping  you  standing  here,  carpet 
bag  in  hand,  all  this  time !  Have  you  engaged  your  room  ? " 

"  No ;  they  say  the  house  is  full." 

"Not  quite!  Mine  is  a  double-bedded  chamber.  You  shall 
share  it  with  me,  if  you  like.  What  do  you  say  ?  " 

"  Thank  you,  I  should  like  it  very  much." 

"  Come  in,  then,  and  have  a  wash  and  a  change  of  clothes ; 
after  which  we  will  have  supper.  What  would  you  like  ?  " 

"Anything  at  all.  I  know  they  cannot  send  up  a  bad  one 
here." 

Mr.  Brudenell  touched  the  bell.  The  waiter  speedily  an 
swered  it. 

"  Supper  directly,  James.  Four  dozen  oysters ;  a  roast  fowl ; 
baked  potatoes ;  muffins ;  a  bottle  of  sherry ;  and,  and,  black  tea ! 
— that  is  your  milksop  beverage,  I  believe,  Ishmael,"  added  Mr. 
Brudenell,  in  a  low  voice,  turning  to  his  guest. 

"  That  is  my  milksop  beverage,"  replied  Ishmael  good-hu- 
moredly. 

The  waiter  went  away  on  his  errand.  And  Mr.  BrudenelJ 
conducted  Ishmael  into  the  adjoining  chamber,  where  the  young 
man  found  an  opportunity  of  renovating  his  toilet.  When  they 
returned  to  the  sitting  room  they  found  the  supper  served  and 
the  waiter  in  attendance,  but  it  was  not  until  the  traveler  had 
done  full  justice  to  this  meal,  and  the  service  was  removed, 
and  the  waiter  was  gone,  and  the  father  and  son  were  alone 
together,  that  they  entered  upon  the  confidential  topics. 

Mr.  Brudenell  questioned  Ishmael  minutely  upon  all  the  de 
tails  of  the  Banff  tragedy.  And  Ishmael  satisfied  him  in  every 
particular.  One  circumstance  in  these  communications  was  no 
ticeable — Mr.  Brudenell,  in  all  his  questionings,  never  once  men 
tioned  the  name  of  the  Countess  of  Hurstmonceux.  And  even 
Ishmael  avoided  bringing  it  into  his  answers. 

When  Mr.  Brudenell  had  learned  all  that  he  wanted  to  know, 
Ishmael  in  his  turn  said: 

"  I  hope,  sir,  that  the  business  which  brought  you  to  England 
has  been  satisfactorily  settled  ? " 


ISHMAEL'S  ERRAND.  451 

Mr.  Brudenell  sighed  heavily. 

"It  has  been  settled,  not  very  satisfactorily,  but  after  a 
fashion,  Ishmael.  I  never  told  you  exactly  what  that  business 
was.  I  intended  to  do  so;  and  I  will  do  it  now." 

Mr.  Brudenell  paused  as  if  he  were  embarrassed,  and  doubtful 
in  what  terms  to  tell  so  unpleasant  a  story.  Ishmael  settled 
himself  to  attend. 

"  It  was  connected  with  my  mother  and  sisters,  Ishmael. 
They  have  been  living  abroad  here  for  many  years,  as  you  have 
perhaps  heard." 

"  Yes." 

"And  they  have  been  living  far  above  their  means  and  far 
above  mine.  And  consequently  debts  and  difficulties  and  em 
barrassments  have  come.  Again  and  again  I  have  made  large 
sacrifices  and  settled  all  claims  against  them.  I  am  sorry  to 
say  it  of  my  mother  and  sisters,  Ishmael ;  but  if  the  truth  must 
be  told,  their  pride  and  extravagance  have  ruined  them  and 
me,  so  far  as  financial  ruin  goes.  If  that  had  been  all,  it  might 
have  been  borne.  But  there  was  worse  to  come.  About  a  year 
ago  my  sister  Eleanor — who  had  reached  an  age  when  single 
women  begin  to  despair  of  marriage — formed  the  acquaintance 
of  a  disreputable  scoundrel,  one  Captain  Dugald,  a  younger 
brother,  I  hear,  of  the  present  Earl  of  Hurstmonceux " 

"  Captain  Dugald !  I  have  heard  of  him !  "  exclaimed  Ish 
mael. 

"  No  doubt,  most  people  have.  He  is  rather  a  notorious  char 
acter.  Well,  my  infatuated  sister  took  a  fancy  to  the  fellow; 
misled  him  into  the  belief  that  she  was  the  mistress  of  a  large 
fortune;  and  played  her  cards  so  skillfully  that — well,  in  a 
word,  the  handsome  scamp  ran  off  with  her,  or  rather  she  ran  off 
with  him;  for  she  seems  all  through  to  have  taken  the  iniative 
in  her  own  ruin." 

"  But  I  do  not  understand  why  she  should  have  run  off  ?  She 
was  of  ripe  age  and  her  own  mistress.  Who  was  there  to  run 
from?" 

"Her  mother,  her  mother;  who  could  not  endure  the  sight 
of  Captain  Dugald,  and  who  had  forbidden  him  her  house." 

"  Ah !  " 

"  Well,  they  were  married  at  Liverpool.  He  took  her  to  the 
United  States.  At  my  mother's  request  I  followed  them  there 
to  reclaim  my  sister,  for  report  said  that  the  captain  had  al 
ready  another  wife  when  he  married  Eleanor.  This  report, 


452  SELF-EAISED  J    OR,  FROM   THE   DEPTHS. 

however,  I  have  ascertained  to  be  without  foundation.  I  could 
not  find  them  in  the  United  States,  and  soon  gave  up  the  search. 
Captain  Dugald  had  no  love  for  my  sister.  He  appears  to  have 
treated  her  brutally  from  the  first  hour  that  he  got  her  into  his 
;  power.  And  when  he  learned  that  she  had  deceived  him, — de 
ceived  him  in  every  way,  in  regard  to  her  fortune,  in  regard 
to  her  age,  in  regard  to  her  very  beauty,  which  was  but  the- 
effect  of  skillful  dress, — he  conceived  a  disgust  for  her,  abused 
her  shamefully,  and  finally  abandoned  her  in  poverty,  in  sick- 
.  ness,  and  in  debt." 

"Poor,  unhappy  lady;  what  else  could  she  have  expected? 
She  must  have  been  mad,"  said  Ishmael. 

"  Mad — madness  don't  begin  to  explain  it.  She  must  have 
been  possessed  of  a  devil.  When  thus  left,  she  sold  a  few  miser 
able  trinkets  of  jewelry  his  cupidity  had  spared  her,  and  took  a 
steerage  passage  in  one  of  our  steamers  and  followed  him  back 
to  England;  but  here  lost  sight  of  him,  for  it  seems  that  he  is 
somewhere  on  the  Continent.  She  came  to  my  mother's  house 
in  London  in  the  condition  of  a  beggar,  knowing  that  she  was  a 
pauper,  and  fearing  that  she  was  not  a  wife.  In  this  state  of 
affairs  my  mother  wrote,  summoning  me  to  her  assistance.  I 
came  over  as  you  know.  I  have  ascertained  that  my  sister's 
marriage  is  a  perfectly  legal  one;  but  I  have  not  succeeded  in 
finding  her  scoundrel  of  a  husband  and  bringing  him  to  book. 
He  is  still  on  the  Continent  somewhere;  hiding  from  his  credi 
tors,  it  is  said." 

"  And  his  unhappy  wife  ?  " 

"Is  on  her  voyage  to  America.  I  have  sent  them  all  home, 
Ishmael.  They  must  live  quietly  at  Brudenell  Hall." 

"  But  now  that  the  Viscount  Vincent  is  dead,  and  Captain 
Dugald  becomes  the  heir  presumptive  to  the  earldom  of  Hurst- 
monceux,  his  prospects  are  so  much  improved  that  I  should 
think  he  would  return  to  England  without  fear  of  annoyance 
from  his  creditors;  such  gentry  being  usually  very  complaisant 
to  the  heirs  of  rich  earldoms." 

"I  doubt  if  he  will  live  to  inherit  the  title  and  estate,  Ish 
mael.  He  is  nearly  eaten  up  by  alcohol.  Eleanor,  I  know,  will 
not  live  long.  She  is  in  the  last  stage  of  consumption.  Her  re 
pose  at  Brudenell  Hall  may  alleviate  her  sufferings,  but  cannot 
save  her  life,"  said  Mr.  Brudenell  sadly.  "  I  have  only  waited 
until  your  business  here  should  be  concluded,  Ishmael,  in  order 
to  return  thither  myself.  You  have  nothing  more  to  do,  how- 


ISHMAEL'S  ERRAND.  453 

ever,  but  to  act  for  Judge  Merlin  in  this  matter  of  restitution, 
and  then  you  will  be  ready  to  go,  I  presume." 

"  Yes ;  I  have  something  else  to  do,  sir.  I  have  to  expose  a 
villain,  to  vindicate  a  lady,  and  to  reconcile  a  long-estranged 
pair,"  replied  Ishmael,  in  a  nervous  tone,  yet  with  smiling  eyes. 

"Why,  what  have  you  been  doing  but  just  those  things? 
What  was  Lord  Vincent  ?  What  was  Claudia  ?  What  was  your 
part  in  that  affair?  Never,  since  the  renowned  Knight  of 
Mancha,  the  great  Don  Quixote,  lived  and  died,  has  there  been 
so  devoted  a  squire  of  dames,  so  brave  a  champion  of  the 
wronged,  as  yourself,  Ishmael,"  said  Mr.  Brudenell. 

"  You  may  laugh,  but  you  shall  not  laugh  me  out  of  my  next 
enterprise,  or  '  adventure,'  as  the  illustrious  personage  you  have 
quoted  would  call  it.  And,  by  the  way,  do  you  know  anything  of 
a  fellow-passenger  of  ours  in  the  late  voyage,  the  German  Jew, 
Ezra  Isaacs  ? " 

"No;  why?" 

"  I  need  him  in  the  prosecution  of  this  adventure." 

"  I  have  not  seen  him  since  we  parted  at  Liverpool.  I  know 
nothing  whatever  about  him." 

"  Well,  then,  after  I  have  been  at  the  chambers  of  Messrs. 
Hudson,  I  must  go  to  Scotland  Yard,  and  put  the  affair  in  the 
hands  of  the  detectives,  for  have  Isaacs  hunted  up  I  must.'' 

"  Is  he  the  villain  you  are  about  to  expose  ?  " 

"  No ;  but  he  has  been  the  tool  of  that  villain,  and  I  want  him 
for  a  sort  of  state's  evidence  against  his  principal." 

"  Ah !  I  wish  you  joy  of  your  adventure,  Ishmael.  It  reminds 
one  forcibly  of  the  windmills,"  said  Mr.  Brudenell. 

Ishmael  laughed  good-humoredly. 

"  I  think  it  will  do  so,  sir,  when  you  find  that  the  objects 
that  you  have  been  mistaking  for  giants  are  only  windmills 
after  all,"  he  said. 

"  I  do  not  understand  you,  my  dear  fellow." 

Ishmael  took  from  his  breast-pocket  the  miniature  of  the 
Countess  of  Hurstmonceux,  and  opening  it  and  gazing  upon  it, 
he  said: 

"  This  is  the  likeness  of  the  injured  lady  whose  honor  I  have 
sworn  to  vindicate." 

"Is  it  Claudia's?"  inquired  Mr.  Brudenell,  stretching  his 
hand  for  it. 

"  No.  it  is  not  Lady  Vincent's.  Pardon  me,  upon  second 
thoughts,  sir.  I  wish  to  tell  you  this  lady's  story  before  I  show 


SELF-RAISED;  OK,  tiioii  THE  DEPTHS. 

you  her  portrait,"  answered  Ishmael,  shutting  the  case  and 
returning  it  to  his  pocket. 

Mr.  Brudenell  sat  back,  looking  puzzled  and  attentive. 

"  This  lady  was  the  young  and  beautiful  widow  of  an  aged 
peer.  She  was  as  pure  and  noble  as  she  was  fair  and 
lovely.  She  was  sought  in  marriage  by  many  attractive  suitors ; 
but  in  vain,  for  she  would  not  bestow  her  hand  where  she  could 
not  bestow  her  heart.  Among  the  most  persevering  of  these 
suitors  was  a  profligate  fortune-hunter,  who,  as  the  near  rela 
tive  of  her  late  husband,  had  the  entree  into  her  house " 

"  Ah !  I  think  I  have  heard  this  story  before,"  said  Mr.  Bru 
denell,  with  the  slightest  possible  sneer  on  his  handsome  lip. 

"  One  side  of  it,  sir,  the  false  side.  Hear  the  other,  and  the 
true  one.  The  beautiful  widow  repulsed  this  suitor  in  disgust, 
and  peremptorily  forbade  him  the  house.  Determined  not  to  be 
baffled,  he  resorted  to  a  stratagem  that  should  have  sent  him, 
to  the  hulks — that  did,  in  fact,  banish  him  from  all  decent  so 
ciety.  Are  you  listening,  sir  ? " 

"  With  all  my  soul,"  said  Mr.  Brudenell,  whose  mocking  sneer 
had  disappeared  before  an  earnest  interest. 

"By  tempting  the  cupidity  of  a  poor  kinsman,  who  was  a 
member  of  the  young  widow's  family,  he  managed  to  get  him 
self  secretly  admitted  to  her  house  and  concealed  in  her  dressing 
room,  whose  front  windows  overlooked  the  street.  In  the  morn 
ing  this  man  opened  one  of  these  windows,  and  stood  before  it 
half -dressed,  in  full  view  of  the  street,  brushing  his  hair  for  the 
entertainment  of  the  passers-by.  The  glare  of  light  from  the 
open  window,  shining  through  the  open  door  into  the  adjoin 
ing  bedchamber  of  the  sleeping  beauty,  awakened  her.  At 
sight  of  the  sacrilegious  intruder,  she  was  so  struck  with  con 
sternation  that  she  could  not  speak.  He  took  advantage  of  his 
position  and  her  panic,  to  press  his  repugnant  suit.  He  plead 
that  his  ardent  passion  and  her-  icy  coldness  had  driven  him  to 
desperation  and  to  extremity.  He  argued  that  all  stratagems 
were  fair  in  love.  He  begged  her  to  forgive  him  and  to  marry 
him,  and  warned  her  that  her  reputation  was  irretrievably  com 
promised  if  she  did  not  do  so." 

Ishmael  paused,  and  looked  to  see  what  effect  this  story  was 
having  upon  Mr.  Brudenell.  Herman  Brudenell  was  listening 
with  breathless  interest. 

Ishmael  continued,  speaking  earnestly,  for  his  heart  was  in 
his  theme: 


ISHMAEL'S  EBB  AND.  455 

"  But  the  beautiful  and  spirited  young  widow  was  not  one  to 
be  terrified  into  a  measure  that  her  soul  abhorred.  Her  first 
act,  on  recovering  the  possession  of  her  senses,  was  to  ring  the 
bell  and  order  the  ejectment  of  the  intruder;  and  despite  his 
attempts  at  explanation  and  remonstrance,  this  order  was 
promptly  obeyed,  and  the  lady  never  saw  him  afterward.  Soon 
after  this  she  left  Edinboro'  for  the  south  of  England.  At 
Brighton  she  met  with  a  gentleman  who  afterward  became  her 
husband.  But  ah!  this  gentleman,  some  time  subsequent  to 
their  marriage,  received  a  one-sided  account  of  that  affair  in 
Edinboro'.  He  was  then  young,  sensitive,  and  jealous.  He  be 
lieved  all  that  was  told  him;  he  asked  no  explanation  of  his 
young  wife;  he  silently  abandoned  her.  And  she — faithful  to 
the  one  love  of  her  life — has  lived  through  all  her  budding 
youth  and  blooming  womanhood  in  loneliness  and  seclusion, 
passing  her  days  in  acts  of  charity  and  devotion.  Circumstances 
have  lately  placed  in  my  power  the  means  of  vindicating  this 
lady's  honor,  even  to  the  satisfaction  of  her  unbelieving  hus 
band." 

Ishmael  paused,  and  looked  earnestly  into  the  troubled  face 
of  Herman  Brudenell. 

"  Ishmael,"  he  exclaimed,  "  of  course  I  have  known  all  along 
that  you  have  been  speaking  of  my  wife,  Lady  Hurstmonceux. 
If  you  have  not  been  deceived;  if  the  truth  is  just  what  it  has 
been  represented  to  you  to  be;  if  she  was  indeed  innocent  of  all 
complicity  in  that  nocturnal  visit;  then,  Ishmael,  I  have  done 
her  a  great,  an  unpardonable,  an  irreparable  wrong." 

"You  have  done  that  lovely  lady  great  wrong  indeed,  sir; 
but  not  an  unpardonable,  not  an  irreparable  one.  She  will  be 
as  ready  to  pardon  as  you  to  offer  reparation.  And  in  her  lovely 
humility  she  will  never  know  that  there  has  been  anything  to 
pardon.  Angels  are  not  implacable,  sir.  If  you  doubt  my  judg 
ment  in  this  matter,  look  on  her  portrait  now,"  said  Ishmael, 
taking  her  miniature  once  more  from  his  coat-pocket,  opening 
it,  and  laying  it  before  Herman  Brudenell. 

Mr.  Brudenell  slowly  raised  it,  and  wistfully  gazed  upon  it. 

"  Is  it  a  faithful  portrait,  Ishmael  ? "  he  asked. 

"  So  faithful  that  it  is  like  herself  seen  through  a  diminish 
ing  glass." 

"  She  is  very,  very  beautif vil — more  beautiful  even  than  she 
was  in  her  early  youth,"  said  Mr.  Brudenell,  thoughtfully  gaz 
ing  upon  the  miniature. 


456        SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

"Yes,  I  can  imagine  that  she  is  more  beautiful  now  than 
she  was  in  her  early  youth;  more  beautiful  with  the  heavenly 
beauty  of  the  spirit  added  to  the  earthly  beauty  of  the  flesh. 
Look  at  that  picture,  dear  sir;  fancy  those  charming  features, 
living,  smiling,  speaking,  and  you  will  be  better  able  to  judge 
how  beautiful  is  your  wife.  Oh,  sir!  I  think  that  in  the  times 
past  you  never  loved  that  sweet  lady  as  she  deserved  to  be  loved ; 
but  if  you  were  to  meet  her  now,  you  would  love  her  as  you 
never  loved  her  before." 

"  If  I  were  to  meet  lier?  Why,  supposing  that  I  have  wronged 
her  as  much  as  you  say,  how  could  I  ever  venture  to  present 
myself  before  her  ?  " 

"How  could  you  ever  venture?  Oh,  sir!  because  she  loves 
you.  There  are  women,  sir,  who  love  but  once  in  all  their  lives, 
and  then  love  forever.  The  Countess  of  Hurstmonceux  is  one 
of  these.  Sir,  since  I  have  lived  in  daily  companionship  with 
her,  I  have  been  led  to  study  her  with  affectionate  interest.  I 
have  read  her  life  as  a  wondrous  poem.  Her  soul  has  been 
filled  with  one  love.  Her  heart  is  the  shrine  of  one  idol.  And 
oh,  sir!  believe  me  the  future  holds  no  hope  of  happiness  so 
sweet  to  that  lovely  lady  as  a  reunion  with  the  husband  of  her 
youth." 

"Ah,  Ishmael!  if  I  could  believe  this,  my  own  youth  would 
be  restored;  I  should  have  a  motive  to  live.  You  said,  just 
now,  that  in  the  old  sad  times  I  had  not  loved  this  lady  as  she 
deserved  to  be  loved.  No — I  married  her  hastily,  impulsively 
— flattered  by  her  evident  preference  for  me;  and  just  as  I  was 
bginning  to  know  all  her  worth  and  beauty,  lo !  this  fact  of  tho 
nocturnal  sojourn  of  the  profligate  Captain  Dugald  came  to  my 
knowledge — came  to  my  knowledge  with  a  convincing  power, 
beyond  all  possibility  of  questioning.  Oh,  you  see,  I  discovered 
the  bare  fact,  without  the  explanation  of  it !  I  believed  myself 
the  dupe  of  a  clever  adventuress,  and  my  love  was  nipped  in 
the  bud.  If  I  could  believe  otherwise  now, — if  I  could  believe 
lhat  she  was  innocent  in  that  affair,  and  that  she  has  loved  me 
all  these  years,  and  been  true  to  that  love,  and  is  ready  and  will 
ing  to  forgive  and  forget  the  long,  sorrowful  past, — Ishmael, 
instead  of  being  the  most  desolate,  I  should  be  the  most  con 
tented  man  alive.  I  should  feel  like  a  shipwrecked  sailor,  long 
tossed  about  on  the  stormy  sea,  arriving  safe  at  home  at  last ! " 
said  Mr.  Brudenell,  gazing  most  longingly  upon  the  picture 
be  held  in  his  hand. 


ISHMAEL'S  ERRAND.  457 

Ishmael  was  too  wise  to  interrupt  that  contemplation  by  a 
single  word  at  this  moment. 

"  The  thought  that  such  a  woman  as  this,  Ishmael, — so  richly 
endowed  in  beauty  of  form  and  mind  and  heart, — should  be  my 
loving  companion  for  life,  seems  to  me  too  great  a  hope  for 
mortal  man  to  indulge." 

Ishmael  did  not  speak. 

"  But  here  is  the  dilemma,  my  dear  boy !  either  she  did  de 
ceive  me,  or  she  did  not.  If  she  did  deceive  me,  lovely  as  she 
is,  I  wish  never  to  see  her  again.  If  she  did  not  deceive  me, 
then  I  have  wronged  her  so  long  and  so  bitterly  that  she  must 
wish  never  to  see  me  again ! "  sighed  Mr.  Brudenell,  as  he 
mournfully  closed  the  case  of  the  miniature. 

Then  Ishmael  spoke : 

"  Oh,  sir !  I  have  resolved  to  vindicate  the  honor  of  this  lady, 
and  I  will  do  it.  Soon  I  will  have  the  German  Jew,  Ezra 
Isaacs,  looked  up;  for  he  it  was  who,  tempted  by  the  false  rep 
resentations  of  Captain  Dugald,  secretly  admitted  him  to  her 
house  and  concealed  him  in  her  dressing  room.  And  he  shall 
be  brought  to  confess  it.  Then  you  will  see,  sir,  the  perfect 
innocence  of  the  countess.  And  for  the  rest,  if  you  wish  to 
prove  her  undiminished  love;  her  perfect  willingness  to  for 
get  the  past ;  her  eagerness  for  a  reconciliation — go  to  her,  prove 
it  all;  and,  oh,  sir,  be  happier  in  your  sober,  middle  age  than 
ever  you  hoped  ^  be,  even  in  your  sanguine  youth." 

The  young  man  spoke  so  fervently,  so  strongly,  so  earnestly 
that  Mr.  Brudenell  seized  his  hand,  and  gazing  affectionately 
in  his  eloquent  face,  said: 

"  What  a  woman's  advocate  you  are,  Ishmael ! " 

"It  is  because  a  woman's  spirit  has  hovered  over  me,  from 
the  beginning  of  my  life,  I  think." 

"Your  angel  mother's  spirit,  Ishmael.  Ah,  brighter,  and 
sweeter  and  dearer  than  all  things  in  my  life,  is  the  n  emory 
of  that  pastoral  poem  of  my  boyish  love.  It  is  the  one  o;  sis  in 
the  desert  of  my  life." 

"Forget  it,  dear  sir;  forget  it  all.  Think  of  your  boyhood 
love  as  an  angel  in  heaven,  and  love  her  only  so.  Do  this  for 
the  sake  of  that  sweet  lady  who  has  a  right  to  your  exclusive 
earthly  devotion." 

"  Oh,  strange,  and  passing  strange,  that  Nora's  son  should 
advocate  the  cause  of  Nora's  rival!"  said  Herman  Brudenell 
wcnderingly. 


*j8         SELF-KAISED;  OB,  FROM  THE  DEPTH .••, 

"  Not  Nora's  rival,  sir.  An  angel  in  heaven,  beaming  in  the 
light  of  God's  smile,  can  never  have  a  rival — least  of  all,  a 
rival  in  a  pilgrim  of  this  earth.  For  the  rest,  if  Nora's  son 
speaks,  it  is  because  Nora's  spirit  inspires  him,"  said  Ishmael 
solemnly. 

"  Your  life,  indeed,  seems  to  have  been  angel-guided,  and  your 
counsels  angel-inspired,  Ishmael;  and  they  shall  guide  me. 
Yes,  Nora's  son;  in  this  crisis  of  my  fate  your  hand  shall  lead 
me.  An(\  I  know  that  it  will  lead  me  into  a  haven  orf  rest." 

Soon  after  this  the  father  and  sou  retired  for  the  night. 

Ishmael,  secure  in  his  own  happy  love  and  easy  in  his  blame 
less  conscience,  soon  fell  asleep. 

Herman  Brudenell  lay  awake,  thinking  over  all  that  he  had 
heard;  blaming  himself  for  his  share  of  the  sorrowful  past,  and 
seeing  always  the  figure  of  the  beautiful  countess  in  her  years 
of  lonely  widowhood. 

It  is  something  for  a  solitary  and  homeless  man,  like  Her 
man  Brudenell,  to  discover  suddenly  that  he  has  for  years  been 
the  sole  object  of  a  good  and  beautiful  woman's  love,  and  to 
know  that  a  home  as  happy  and  a  wife  as  lovely  as  his  youthful 
imagination  ever  pictured  were  now  waiting  to  receive  him,  if 
he  would  come  and  take  possession. 

Early  the  next  morning  Ishmael  arose,  refreshed,  from  a  good 
night's  rest;  but  Mr.  Brudenell  got  up,  weary,  from  a  sleepless 
pillow. 

It  was  to  be  a  busy  day  with  Ishmael,  so,  after  a  hasty  break 
fast,  he  took  a  temporary  leave  of  Mr.  Brudenell  and  set  out. 
His  first  visit  was  to  the  chambers  of  the  Messrs.  Hudson,  so 
licitors,  Burton  Street,  Piccadilly.  Where  all  parties  are  agreed 
business  must  be  promptly  dispatched,  despite  of  even  the  law's 
proverbial  delays.  The  Earl  of  Hurstmonceux  and  Judge 
Merlin  were  quite  agreed  in  this  affair  of  restitution,  and  there 
fore  their  attorneys  could  have  little  trouble. 

As  the  reader  knows,  upon  the  marriage  of  the  Viscount  Vin 
cent  and  Claudia  Merlin,  there  had  been  no  settlements;  there 
fore  the  whole  of  the  bride's  fortune  became  the  absolute  prop 
erty  of  the  bridegroom.  Subsequently,  Lord  Vincent  had  died 
intestate;  therefore  Claudia  as  his  widow  would  have  been 
legally  entitled  to  but  a  portion  of  that  very  fortune  she  herself 
had  brought  to  him  in  marriage;  all  the  rest  falling  to  the  vis 
count's  family,  or  rather  to  its  representative,  the  Earl  of  Hurst 
monceux.  It  was  this  legal  injustice  that  the  earl  wished  to 


1SHMAEI/S   EKKAND.  459 

rectify,  by  making  over  to  Lady  Vincent  all  his  right,  title, 
and  interest  in  the  estate  left  by  the  deceased  Lord  Vincent. 
This  business  he  had  intrusted  to  his  solicitors,  giving  them  f  ul] 
power  to  act  in  his  name,  and  Ishmael,  with  the  concurrence 
of  Judge  Merlin,  made  it  his  business  to  see  that  every  binding, 
legal  form  was  observed  in  the  transfer,  so  that  Lady  Vincent 
should  rest  undisturbed  in  her  possessions  by  any  grasping 
heir  that  might  succeed  the  Earl  of  Hurstmonceux. 

When  this  arrangement  with  the  Messrs.  Hudson  was  satis 
factorily  completed,  Ishmael  entered  a  cab  and  drove  to  Scot 
land  Yard.  He  succeeded  in  obtaining  an  immediate  interview 
with  Inspector  Meadows,  to  whose  hands  he  committed  the  task 
of  looking  up  the  German  Jew,  Ezra  Isaacs.  Next  he  drove 
to  Broad  Street,  to  the  agency  of  a  celebrated  line  of  ocean 
steamers.  After  looking  over  their  programme  of  steamers  ad 
vertised  to  sail,  and  reading  the  list  of  passengers  booked  for 
each,  he  found  that  he  could  engage  berths  for  his  whole  party 
in  a  fine  steamer  to  sail  that  day  fortnight,  from  Liverpool  for 
New  York.  He  secured  the  berths  by  paying  the  passage  money 
down  and  taking  tickets  at  once.  Finally,  he  re-entered  the  cab 
and  drove  back  to  his  hotel.  He  found  that  Mr.  Brudenell  had 
walked  out.  That  did  not  surprise  Ishmael.  Mr.  Brudenell 
generally  did  walk  out.  Like  all  homeless,  solitary,  and  unoccu 
pied  men,  Mr.  Brudenell  had  formed  rambling  habits;  and  had 
he  been  a  degree  or  so  lower  in  the  social  scale,  he  must  have 
been  classed  among  the  vagrants. 

Ishmael  sat  down  in  the  unoccupied  parlor  to  write  to  Judge 
Merlin.  He  told  the  judge  of  the  satisfactory  completion  of  his 
business  with  the  solicitors  of  the  Earl  of  Hurstmonceux;  and 
that  he  had  the  documents  effecting  the  restitution  of  Lady 
Vincent's  property  in  his  own  safe-keeping ;  that  he  did  not  like 
to  trust  them  to  the  mail,  but  would  bring  them  in  person  when 
he  should  return  to  Edinboro',  which  would  be  as  soon  as  a 
little  affair  that  he  had  in  hand  could  be  arranged;  and  he 
hinted  that  Mr.  Brudenell  would  probably  accompany  him  to 
Scotland.  Finally,  he  informed  the  judge  that  he  had  en 
gaged  passages  for  their  party  in  the  ocean  mail  steamer  "  Co 
lumbus,"  to  sail  on  Saturday,  the  15th,  from  Liverpool  for  New 
York.  He  ended  with  sending  affectionate  respects  to  Lady 
Vincent  and  the  Countess  of  Hurstmonceux.  Being  anxious 
to  catch  the  afternoon  mail  at  the  last  moment,  Ishmael  did  not 
intrust  the  delivery  of  this  letter  to  the  waiters  of  the  hotel, 


460        SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

but  took  his  hat  and  hurried  out  to  post  it  himself.  By  paying 
the  extra  penny  exacted  for  late  letters  he  got  it  into  the  mail 
and  then  walked  back  to  the  hotel. 

Mr.  Brudenell  had  returned,  and  at  the  moment  of  Ishmael's 
entrance  he  was  in  solemn  consultation  with  the  waiter  about, 
the  dinner.  After  dinner  that  day  Ishmael  went  out  to  visit 
the  tower  of  London,  to  him  the  most  interesting  of  all  the  an 
cient  buildings  in  that  ancient  city.  At  night  he  went  with  Mr, 
Brudenell  to  the  old  classic  Drury  Lane  Theater  to  see  Kean  in 
"Kichard  III."  After  that  intellectual  festival  they  returned 
to  Morley's  to  supper  and  to  bed.  On  Sunday  morning  they 
attended  divine  service  at  St.  Paul's.  The  next  morning,  Ish 
mael,  with  Mr.  Brudenell,  paid  a  visit  to  Westminster 
Abbey,  where  the  tombs  of  the  ancient  kings  and  warriors  en 
gaged  their  attention  nearly  the  whole  day.  It  was  late  in  the 
afternoon  when  they  returned  to  Morley's,  where  the  first  thing 
Ishmael  heard  was  that  a  person  was  waiting  for  him  in  the 
parlor. 

Mr.  Brudenell  went  directly  to  his  chamber  to  change  his 
dress,  but  Ishmael  repaired  to  the  parlor,  where  he  expected 
to  see  someone  from  Scotland  Yard. 

He  found  the  German  Jew  sitting  there. 

"  Why,  Isaacs  ?  Is  this  you,  already  ?  I  am  very  glad  to  see 
you !  Mr.  Meadows  sent  you,  I  suppose  ? "  said  Ishmael,  ad 
vancing  and  shaking  hands  with  his  visitor. 

"Mishter  Meators?  Who  is  he?  No,  Mishter  Meators  tit 
not  zend  me  here;  no  one  tit;  I  gome  myzelf.  I  saw  your  name 
in  te  list  of  arrivals  at  dish  house,  bublished  in  tish  morningsh 
babers.  Ant  I  zaid — dish  is  te  name  of  von  drue  shentlemans; 
ant  I'll  gall  to  see  him;  and  here  I  am,"  replied  the  Jew,  cor 
dially  returning  Ishmael's  shake  of  the  hand. 

"  Thank  you,  Isaacs,  for  your  good  opinion  of  me.  Sit  down. 
I  have  been  very  anxious  to  see  you,  to  speak  to  you  on  a  sub 
ject  that  I  must  broach  at  once,  lest  we  should  be  interrupted 
before  we  have  discussed  it,"  said  Ishmael,  who  was  desirous  of 
bringing  Isaacs  to  confession  before  the  entrance  of  Mr.  Bru 
denell. 

"  Sbeak  ten ! "  said  the  Jew,  settling  himself  in  the  big  arm 
chair. 

"  Isaacs,  you  had  a  beautiful  kinswoman  of  whom  you  used  to 
speak  to  me  on  our  voyage;  but  you  never  told  me  her  name,"* 
said  Ishmael  gravely,  seating  himself  near  the  Jew. 


ISHMAEL'S    ERRAND.  461 

"  Titn't  I,  verily  ?  Veil,  her  name  vas  Berenice,  daughter  of 
Zillah;  Zillah  vas  mine  mcder's  shister,  and  vas  very  fair  to  look 
upon.  She  marriet  mit  a  rish  Lonton  Shew,  and  tiet  leafing 
von  fair  daughter  Berenice,  mine  kinsvoman,  who  marriet  mit 
an  English  lort;  very  olt,  very  boor,  put  very  mush  in  love  mit 
my  kinsvoman.  He  marriet  her  pecause  zhe  was  fair  to  look 
upon  and  very  rish;  her  fader  made  her  marry  him  pecause  he 
was  a  lort;  he  zoon  tied  and  left  her  a  witow,  ant  zhe  never 
marriet  again ;  zhe  left  te  country  and  vas  away  many  years  ant 
I  have  nod  zeen  her  zince.  My  fair  kinswoman !  Zhe  hat  a 
great  wrong  done  her !  "  said  the  Jew,  dropping  his  chin  upon 
his  chest  and  falling  into  sad  and  penitential  reverie. 

"Yes,  Isaacs,"  said  Ishmael,  rising  and  laying  his  hand  sol 
emnly  on  the  breast  of  the  Jew.  "  Yes,  Isaacs,  she  had  a  great 
wrong  done  her,  a  greater  wrong  than  even  you  can  imagine; 
a  wrong  so  great  in  its  devastating  effects  upon  her  life  that 
you  cannot  even  estimate  its  enormity!  But,  Isaacs,  you  can 
do  something  to  right  this  wrong ! " 

"  I !  Fader  Abraham,  what  can  I  ? "  exclaimed  the  Jew,  im 
pressed  and  frightened  by  the  earnestness  of  Ishmael's  words. 

"  You  can  make  a  full  disclosure  of  the  circumstances  under 
which  the  miscreant  Dromlie  Dugald  obtained  access  to  Lady 
Hurstmonceux's  private  apartments." 

The  Jew  gazed  up  in  the  young  man's  face,  as  though  he  was 
unable  to  withdraw  his  eyes;  he  seemed  to  be  held  spellbound 
by  the  powerful  magnetism  of  Ishmael's  spirit. 

"  Isaacs,"  continued  the  young  man,  "  whatever  may  be  the 
nature  of  these  disclosures,  I  promise  you  that  you  shall  be 
held  free  of  consequences — I  promise  you;  and  you  know  the 
value  of  my  promise." 

The  Jew  did  not  answer  and  did  not  remove  his  eyes  from 
the  earnest,  eloquent  face  of  Ishmael. 

"  So  you  see,  Isaacs,  that  your  disclosures,  while  they  will  de 
liver  the  countess  from  the  suspicions  under  which  her  happi 
ness  has  drooped  for  so  many  years,  can  do  you  no  injury 
And  now,  Isaacs,  I  ask  you,  as  man  speaking  to  man,  a  question 
that  I  adjure  you  to  answer,  as  you  shall  answer  at  that  great 
day  of  account,  when  quick  and  dead  shall  stand  before  the  bar 
of  God,  and  the  secret  of  all  hearts  shall  be  revealed — did  you 
admit  Dromlie  Dugald  to  the  private  apartments  of  the 
Countess  of  Hurstmonceux,  without  the  knowledge  or  the  con 
sent  of  her  ladyship  ?  " 


462        SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

"  Cot  forgive  me,  I  tit ! "  exclaimed  the  Jew,  in  a  low  terri 
fied  voice. 

"  That  will  do,  Isaacs,"  said  Ishmael,  ringing  the  bell. 

A  waiter  came. 

"  Is  there  an  unoccupied  sitting  room  that  I  can  have  the  use 
of  for  a  short  time  ? "  inquired  Ishmael. 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  Show  me  to  it  immediately,  then." 

The  waiter  led  the  way,  and  Ishmael,  beckoning  the  Israelite 
to  accompany  him,  followed  to  a  comfortable  little  parlor, 
warmed  by  a  bright  little  fire,  such  as  they  kept  always  ready 
for  chance  guests. 

"Writing  materials,  James,"  said  Ishmael. 

The  man  went  for  them ;  and  while  he  was  gone,  Ishmael  said : 

"  We  might  have  been  interrupted  in  the  other  room,  Isaacs ; 
that  is  the  reason  why  I  have  brought  you  here." 

When  the  waiter  had  returned  with  the  writing  materials, 
and  arranged  them  on  the  table,  and  again  had  withdrawn  from 
the  room,  Ishmael  drew  a  chair  to  the  table,  seated  himself, 
took  a  pen,  and  said: 

"  Now  Isaacs,  sit  down  near  me,  and  relate,  as  faithfully  as 
you  can,  all  the  circumstances  attending  the  concealment  of 
Dromlie  Dugald  in  Lady  Hurstmonceux's  apartments." 

The  Jew,  as  if  acting  under  the  spell  of  a  powerful  spirit, 
did  as  he  was  ordered.  He  drew  a  chair  to  the  table,  seated 
himself  opposite  Ishmael,  and — to  use  a  common  phrase — "  made 
a  clean  breast  of  it." 

I  will  not  attempt  to  give  his  confession  in  detail.  I  will 
only  give  the  epitome  of  it.  He  acknowledged  that  he  had  been 
bribed  by  Captain  Dugald  to  favor  his  (the  captain's)  addresses 
to  the  beautiful  young  widow.  But  he  solemnly  declared  that 
he  had  supposed  himself  to  be  acting  as  much  for  the  lady's  good 
as  for  his  own  interest,  when  he-  took  the  captain's  money  and 
admitted  him  freely  to  the  house  of  his  kinswoman,  where  he 
himself  was  staying,  a  temporary  guest,  and  where  he  received 
her  suitor  as  his  visitor. 

Farther,  he  more  solemnly  declared  that  on  that  fatal  evening 
when  he  secretly  admitted  the  captain  to  the  house,  and  guided 
him  to  the  boudoir  of  the  countess,  he  had  not  the  remotest 
suspicion  of  the  nefarious  purpose  of  the  suitor.  He  thought 
Dugald  merely  wished  for  an  opportunity  for  pressing  his  suit. 
He  had  no  idea  that  the  unscrupulous  villain  designed  to  con- 


ISHMAEL'S  EKE  AND.  463 

ceal  himself  in  the  closet  of  the  dressing  room,  and  so  pass  the 
night  in  Lady  Hurstmonceux's  apartments,  and  show  himself 
in  the  morning  in  dishabille  at  her  open  window,  for  the  bene 
fit  of  all  the  passengers  through  the  street. 

He  affirmed  that  when  in  the  morning  he  heard  of  this  in 
famous  abuse  of  confidence  on  the  part  of  his  patron,  he  had 
not  had  courage  to  meet  his  kinswoman  at  breakfast,  but  had 
decamped  from  the  house  in  great  haste,  and  had  never  seen  the 
countess  since  that  eventful  day. 

He  said  that  he  had  heard  how  much  she  had  suffered  from 
the  affair,  at  least  for  a  short  time;  and  that  afterwards  he  had 
heard  she  had  left  the  country;  that  he  had  since  svpposed  the 
whole  circumstance  had  been  forgotten,  and  he  did  noi  even  now 
understand  how  his  disclosures  should  serve  her,  since  no  one 
now  remembered  the  escapade  of  Captain  Dugald. 

As  Isaacs  spoke,  Ishmael  took  down  the  statement  in  writing. 
When  it  was  finished  he  turned  to  the  Jew  and  said : 

"  You  are  mistaken  in  one  thing — nay,  indeed,  in  two  things, 
Isaacs!  The  first  is,  in  the  supposition  that  your  disclosures 
cannot  now  serve  the  countess,  since  the  world  has  long  ago 
done  her  full  justice.  It  is  tme  that  the  world  has  done  her 
full  justice,  for  there  is  no  lady  living  more  highly  esteemed 
than  is  the  Countess  of  Hurstmonceux.  So  if  the  world  were 
only  in  question,  Isaacs,  I  need  never  have  troubled  you  to 
speak.  But  there  is  an  individual  in  question;  and  this  brings 
me  to  your  second  mistake  in  the  matter;  namely,  in  the  sup 
position  that  the  countess  never  married  again.  She  did  marry 
again;  but,  a  few  months  subsequent  to  her  marriage,  her 
husband  heard  the  story  of  Captain  Dugald's  adventure,  as  it 
was  then  circulated  and  believed;  and  he  thought  himself  the 
dupe  of  a  cunning  adventuress,  and  estranged  himself  from 
his  wife  from  that  day  until  this." 

"  Fader  Abraham ! "  exclaimed  the  Jew,  raising  both  his 
hands  in  consternation. 

"  Providence  has  lately  put  me  in  possession  of  all  the  facts 
in  this  case,  and  has  enabled  me  to  pave  the  way  for  a  recon 
ciliation  between  the  long-severed  pair — supposing  that  you 
will  have  the  moral  courage  to  do  your  kinswoman  justice." 

"  Fader  Abraham,  I  vill  do  her  shustice !  I  vill  do  her  more 
as  shustice.  I  vill  tell  te  whole  truth.  I  vill  tell  more  as  te 
whole  truth,  and  shwear  to  it.  I  vill  do  anyding.  I  vould  do 
anyding  alt  te  time,  if  I  had  known  it,"  said  the  Jew  earnestly, 


464        SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

"Thank  you,  Isaacs,  I  only  want  the  simple  truth;  more 
than  that  would  do  us  harm  instead  of  good.  This  is  the  simple 
truth,  I  hope,  that  I  have  taken  down  from  your  lips  ? " 

"  Yesh,  tat  ish  te  zimple  truth !  " 

"  I  will  read  the  whole  statement  to  you,  Isaacs,  and  then  you 
will  be  able  to  see  whether  I  have  taken  down  your  words  cor 
rectly,"  said  Ishmael.  And  he  took  up  the  manuscript  and  read 
it  carefully  through,  pausing  frequently  to  give  the  Jew  an 
opportunity  of  correcting  him,  if  necessary. 

"Dat  ish  all  right,"  said  Isaacs,  when  the  reading  was  fin 
ished. 

"  Now  sign  it,  Isaacs." 

The  Jew  affixed  his  signature. 

"Now,  Isaacs  that  is  all  I  want  of  you  for  the  present;  but 
should  you  be  required  to  make  oath  to  the  truth  of  this,  I 
suppose  that  you  will  be  found  ready  to  do  so." 

"Fader  Abraham!  yes,  I  vill  do  anyding  at  all,  or  anyding 
else,  to  serve  mine  kinswoman,"  said  the  Jew,  rising. 

"  Thank  you,  Isaacs.  Now  tell  me  where  I  shall  find  you, 
in  case  you  shall  be  wanted  ? " 

"  I  am  lotging  mit  mine  frient,  Samuel  Phineas,  Butter 
Lane,  Burrough." 

"  I  will  remember.  Thank  you,  Isaacs.  You  have  done  your 
kinswoman  and  her  friends  good  service.  She  will  be  grateful 
to  you.  I  have  no  doubt  she  will  send  for  you.  Would  you  like 
to  come  to  her  ?  " 

" Mit  all  my  feet.    Vere  ish  she? " 

"At  her  country-seat,  Cameron  Court,  near  EdinboroV 

"  I  ton't  know  id." 

"No,  you  don't  know  it.  It  is  a  comparatively  recent  pur 
chase  of  her  ladyship,  I  believe,"  said  Ishmael,  rising  to  ac 
company  the  Jew  from  the  room. 

As  they  went  out  they  rang  the  bell,  to  warn  the  waiter  that 
they  had  evacuated  the  apartment.  In  the  hall  Isaacs  bade  him 
good-afternoon,  and  Ishmael  turned  into  the  sitting  room  oc- 
rupied  in  common  by  himself  and  Mr.  Brudenell.  He  found 
the  table  laid  for  dinner  and  Mr.  Brudenell  walking  impatiently 
up  and  down  the  floor. 

"  Ah,  you  are  there !  I  was  afraid  you  would  be  late,  and  the 
fish  and  the  soup  would  be  spoiled,  but  here  ;,ou  are  in  the  very 
nick  of  time,"  he  said,  as  he  touched  the  bell.  "  Dinner  imme 
diately,"  he  continued,  addressing  himself  to  the  waiter,  who 


ISHMAEL'S  EBKAND.  465 

answered  his  summons.  But  it  was  not  until  after  dinner  was 
over,  and  the  cloth  removed,  and  Mr.  Brudenell  had  finished 
his  bottle  of  claret  and  smoked  out  his  principe,  that  Ishmae] 
told  him  of  his  interview  with  Isaacs,  and  laid  the  written  state' 
ment  of  the  Jew  before  him.  Mr.  Brudenell  read  it  carefully 
through,  with  the  deepest  interest.  When  he  had  finished  it, 
he  slowly  folded  it  up  and  placed  it  in  his  breast  pocket,  dropped 
his  head  upon  his  chest,  and  remained  in  deep  thought  and  per 
fect  silence. 

After  the  lapse  of  a  few  moments  Ishmael  spoke: 

"If  you  think  it  needful,  sir,  Isaacs  is  ready  to  go  before  a 
magistrate  and  make  oath  to  the  truth  of  that  statement." 

"  It  is  not  needful,  Ishmael ;  I  have  not  the  least  doubt  of 
its  perfect  truth.  It  is  not  of  that  I  am  thinking;  but — of  my 
wife.  How  will  she  receive  me?  One  thing  is  certain,  that 
having  deeply  injured  her,  I  must  go  to  her  and  acknowledge 
the  wrong  and  ask  her  forgiveness.  But,  oh,  Ishmael,  what 
atonement  will  that  be  for  years  of  cruel  injustice  and  aban 
donment?  None,  none!  No,  I  feel  that  I  can  make  her  no 
atonement,"  said  Mr.  Brudenell  bitterly. 

"  No,  sir ;  you  can  make  her  no  atonement,  but — you  can 
make  her  happy.  And  that  is  all  she  will  need,"  said  Ishmael 
gravely  and  sweetly. 

"  If  I  thought  I  could,  Ishmael,  I  would  hasten  to  her  at 
once.  In  any  case,  however,  I  must  go  to  her,  acknowledge 
the  wrong  I  have  done  her  and  ask  for  pardon.  But,  ah!  how 
will  she  receive  me  ? " 

"  Only  go  and  see  for  yourself,  sir,  I  implore  you,"  said  Ish 
mael  earnestly. 

"  When  do  you  return  to  Scotland,  Ishmael  ? " 

"When  you  are  ready  to  accompany  me,  sir;  I  am  waiting 
only  for  you,"  answered  Ishmael,  smiling.  > 

"  Then  we  will  go  by  the  early  express  train  to-morrow  morn 
ing,"  said  Mr.  Brudenell. 

"  Very  well,  sir ;  I  shall  be  ready,"  smiled  Ishmael. 

Mr.  Brudenell  rang  for  tea.  And  when  it  was  set  on  the  table 
he  ordered  the  waiter  to  call  him  at  five  o'clock  the  next  morn 
ing,  to  have  his  bill  ready,  and  get  a  fly  to  the  door  to  take 
them  to  the  Great  Northern  Railroad  Station  in  time  to  meet 
the  six  o'clock  express  train  for  Edinboro'. 

After  tea  the  two  gentlemen  remained  conversing  some  little 
time  longer,  and  then  retired  to  their  bed-chamber,  where,  be- 


466        SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

ing  without  the  help  and  hindrance  of  a  valet,  they  packed 
their  own  portmanteaus.  And  then  they  went  to  bed  early  in 
order  to  secure  a  long  and  good  night's  rest,  preparatory  to 
their  proposed  journey  of  the  next  morning. 


CHAPTER  LII. 

THE  MEETING  OP  THE  SEVERED  PAIR. 

For  she  is  wise,  if  I  can  judge  of  her; 
And  fair  she  is,  if  that  mine  eyes  be  true; 
And  true  she  is  as  she  hath  proved  herself; 
And  therefore  like  herself,  wise,  fair,  and  trne 
She  shall  be  placed  within  ray  constant  soul. 

— Shakspeare. 

Ishmael  and  Mr.  Brudenell  arose  before  the  waiter  called 
them.  They  dressed  quickly,  rang,  and  ordered  breakfast,  and 
had  time  to  eat  it  leisurely  before  the  hour  at  which  the  cab  was 
ordered  to  take  them  to  the  railway  station.  They  caught  the 
six  o'clock  express  on  the  point  of  starting,  and  had  just  settled 
themselves  comfortably  in  a  first-class  carriage  when  the  tr-.in 
moved. 

Ther^  is  a  difference  in  the  time  kept  even  by  express  trains. 
This  one  seemed  to  be  the  fastest  among  the  fast,  since  it 
steamed  out  of  the  London  station  at  six  in  the  morning  and 
steamed  into  the  Edinboro'  station  at  four  in  the  afternoon. 

Ishmael  called  a  cab  for  himself  and  fellow-traveler.  And 
•when  they  had  taken  their  seats  in  it,  he  gave  the  order,  "  To 
Magruder's  Hotel."  And  the  cab  started. 

"  I  think,  sir,"  said  the  young  man  to  the  elder,  "  as  we  are  in 
such  good  time,  we  had  belter  go  to  my  rooms  at  Magruder's 
and  renovate  our  toilets  before  driving  out  to  Cameron  Court 
and  presenting  ourselves  to  Lady  Hurstmonceux." 

"Yes,  yes,  certainly,  Ishmael;  for  really  I  think  after  that 
dusty,  smoky,  cindery  day's  journey  we  should  be  all  the  better 
for  soap  and  water  and  clean  clothes.  I  don't  know  how  I  look, 
my  dear  fellow,  but,  not  to  flatter  you,  you  present  the  appear 
ance  of  a  very  interesting  master  chimney-sweep ! "  replied  Mr. 
Brudenell. 

Ishmael  laughed. 

Ah,  yes;  Herman  Brudenell  jested  on  the  same  principle  that 
people  are  said  to  jest  on  their  way  to  execution.  Now,  when 


THE   MEETING   OF   THE   SEVERED   PAIR.  467 

he  was  so  near  Cameron  Court  and  the  Countess  of  Hwstmon- 
ceux,  how  ill  at  ease  he  had  become;  how  he  dreaded,  yet  de 
sired,  the  interview  that  was  to  decide  his  fate. 

The  distance  between  the  railway  station  and  Magruder's 
Hotel  was  so  short  that  it  was  passed  over  in  a  few  minutes. 
Ishmael  paid  and  dismissed  the  cab,  and  the  two  gentlemen  went 
in.  Ishmael's  rooms  in  that  house  had  never  been  given  up; 
they  had  been  kept  for  the  use  of  his  party,  on  their  journey- 
ings  through  the  city.  He  conducted  Mr.  Brudenell  to  these 
rooms,  and  then  ordered  luncheon  as  soon  as  it  could  be  served, 
and  a  fly  in  half  an  hour.  Twenty  minutes  they  gave  to  that 
"  renovation  "  of  the  toilet  advised  by  Ishmael,  ten  minutes  to 
a  simple  luncheon  of  cold  meat  and  bread,  and  then  they  entered 
the  fly. 

Ishmael  gave  the  order,  "  To  Cameron  Court." 

As  they  moved  on  Mr.  Brudenell  said: 

"  There  are  several  points  upon  which  I  would  like  to  con 
sult  you,  before  presenting  myself  to  the  countess." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Ishmael,  looking  up  with  a  smile  full  of  ear 
nest  encouragement. 

"But,  like  all  procrastinating  natures,  I  have  deferred  the 
task  until  the  last  moment." 

"  There  has  been  no  better  opportunity  than  the  present,  sir." 

"  That  is  true.  Well,  Ishmael,  the  first  doubt  that  troubles 
me  is  this:  That  I  should  not,  perhaps,  intrude  upon  the  count 
ess,  without  first  writing  and  apprising  her  of  my  intended 
visit.  My  appearance  will  be  unexpected,  startling,  even  em 
barrassing  to  her." 

"  No,  sir,  no ;  trust  me  it  will  not.  If  I  have  read  that  gen 
tle  lady's  heart  aright,  she  has  been  always  hoping  to  see  you; 
and,  with  the  expectation  that  is  born  of  hope,  she  has  been 
always  looking  for  you.  No  strange,  unnatural  appearance  will 
you  seem  to  Lady  Hurstmonceux,  believe  me,  sir.  And,  more 
over,  she  has  reason  to  expect  you  now.  Listen,  sir.  It  was  on. 
the  day  after  I  heard  her  story  of  Captain  Dugald's  midnight 
visit  and  the  evil  it  brought  her,  I  begged  from  her  the  loan  of 
that  miniature  which  I  showed  you.  And  I  do  think  she 
half  suspected  the  use  that  I  was  about  to  put  it  to.  She  loaned 
it  to  me  freely,  without  question  and  without  reserve,  and  she 
knew  at  the  time  that  I  was  going  directly  to  your  presence; 
and  finally,  on  the  day  before  yesterday,  when  writing  to  Judge 
Merlin,  I  mentioned  my  hope  thac  you  would  accompany  me 


468  SELF-KAISED ;    OR,    FROM    THE    DEPTHS. 

to  Edinboro'.  So  you  see,  sir,  Lady  Hurstmonceux  is  not  en« 
tirely  unprepared  to  receive  you." 

"  Ah,  but  how  will  she  receive  me,  Ishmael  ?  And  how,  in 
deed,  shall  I  present  myself  to  her  ? " 

"  She  will  welcome  you  with  joy,  sir;  believe  it.  But  you  need 
not  take  her  by  surprise,  sir,  even  supposing  that  she  does  not 
expect  you.  Indeed,  in  no  event  would  it  be  well  that  you  should 
risk  doing  so.  When  we  reach  Cameron  Court  you  can  remain 
in  the  fly,  while  I  go  in,  and  to  her  ladyship  alone  announce 
your  arrival." 

"  Thank  you,  Ishmael.  Your  plan  is  a  good  one  and  I  will 
adopt  it.  And  now  another  thing,  my  dear  boy.  Ishmael,  you 
have  always  refused  to  be  publicly  acknowledged  as  my 
son " 

"  You  know  why,  sir ;  I  will  not  have  unmerited  reproach 
thrown  upon  my  sainted  mother's  memory.  She  was  a  martyr 
to  your  mistake ;  it  must  never  be  supposed  that  she  was  a  vic 
tim  to  her  own  weakness." 

"  Enough,  Ishmael,  enough !  I  will  not  urge  the  point,  al 
though  Heaven  only  knows  how  great  is  the  sacrifice  I  make 
in  resigning  the  hope  that  you  would  take  my  name  and  inherit 
•what  is  left  of  the  family  estates.  But,  there,  Ishmael,  I  will 
say  no  more  upon  that  point.  You  will  continue  to  bear  your 
mother's  name — the  name  that  you  have  already  made  famous, 
and  that,  I  feel  sure,  you  will  make  illustrious.  So  no  more 
of  that.  But  what  I  wished  particularly  to  consult  you  about 
is  the  propriety  of  confiding  to  the  countess  the  secret  of  our 
relationship.  Ishmael,  it  shall  be  just  as  you  please." 

"  Then,  sir,  tell  her  all.  Have  no  secrets  from  the  countess, 
she  merits  all  your  confidence;  but  tell  her  the  circumstances 
under  which  you  married  my  dear  mother,  that  Nora  Worth 
may  be  held  blameless  by  her  forever,"  said  Ishmael  solemnly. 

It  was  strange  to  hear  this  middle-aged  gentleman  seeking 
counsel  from  this  young  man;  but  so  it  was  that  all  who  were 
brought  within  the  circle  of  Ishmael's  influence  consulted  him 
as  an  early  Christian  might  have  consulted  a  young  St.  John. 
Ishmael  had  not  the  experience  that  only  age  can  bring;  but 
he  had  that  clear,  strong,  moral  and  intellectual  insight  which 
only  purity  of  heart  and  life  can  give,  and  hence  his  counsels 
were  always  wise  and  good. 

.It  was  six  o'clock  when  the  carriage  reached  Cameron  Court. 
When  the  carriage  drew  up  before  the  principal  entrance  Ish« 


"BERENICE  AROSE  TO  MEET  HER  VISITOR." 

—Page  471. 


THE  MEETING  OF  THE  SEVERED  PAIR.     469 

mael  observed  that  Mr.  Brudenell  had  become  very  much  agi 
tated. 

"  Compose  yourself,  dear  sir;  compose  yourself  with  the  re 
flection  that  it  is  only  a  loving  woman  you  are  about  to  meet; 
a  woman  who  loves  you  constantly  and  will  welcome  you  with 
(delight.    Remain  here  until  I  go  in  and  announce  your  visit; 
jthen  I  will  return  for  you,"  he  said,  pressing  Mr.  Brudenell's 
hand  as  he  left  the  carriage. 

j  The  professor  opened  the  door  for  Mr.  Worth.  There  was  no 
'regular  porter  at  Cameron  Court,  but  Dr.  James  Morris  was 
acting  in  that  capacity. 

"All  well,  professor?" 

"  All  well,  sir.  The  judge  and  Lady  Vincent  have  gone  out 
for  an  airing  in  the  close  carriage.  We  expect  them  back  to 
dinner,  which  will  be  served  presently.  You  are  just  in  time, 
sir." 

Ishmael  was  for  once  glad  to  hear  that  the  judge  and  his 
daughter  were  absent  and  that  the  countess  was  alone.  But 
then,  suddenly  he  reflected  that  this  latter  supposition  was 
not  so  certain,  and  he  anxiously  inquired: 

"  Is  the  countess  at  home,  professor  ? " 

"  Yes,  sir ;  her  ladyship  is  in  the  library,  reading." 

"Alone?" 

"  Quite  alone,  sir." 

"  That  will  do ;  I  can  find  her,"  said  Ishmael,  ascending  the 
stairs  and  turning  in  the  direction  of  the  library,  which  was 
situated  on  the  first  floor. 

Berenice,  dressed  in  a  rich,  but  simply  made,  black  velvet 
robe,  with  delicate  white  lace  under-sleeves  and  collar,  sat  near 
the  centre  table  before  the  fire,  reading.  Her  head  was  bent 
over  her  book,  and  her  rich  black  ringlets  fell  forward,  half 
shading  her  beautiful  dark  face.  She  raised  her  eyes  when 
Ishmael  entered,  and  seeing  who  it  was,  she  threw  aside  her 
.book  and  started  up  to  meet  him. 

"  Welcome,  Mr.  Worth ;  welcome  back  again,"  she  said,  offer 
ing  her  hand. 

Ishmael  took  that  beautiful  little  brown  hand  and  held  it 
within  his  own  as  he  said: 

"Thank  you,  Lady  Hurstmonceux.  I  am  really  very  glad 
to  get  back.  But " 

"What,  Mr.  Worth?" 

"I  do  not  come  alone,  Lady  Hurstmonceux" 


470         SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

Her  countenance  suddenly  changed.  Her  voice  sank  to  a 
whisper  as  she  inquired: 

"Who  is  with  you?" 

Dropping  his  voice  to  the  low  tone  of  hers,  Ishmael  answered : 

"Mr.  Brudenell." 

The  countess  snatched  her  hand  from  his  grasp,  threw  her 
self  into  the  nearest  chair,  covered  her  face  with  her  hands, 
and  so  remained  for  several  minutes.  At  last  Ishmael  ap 
proached  and  leaned  over  her,  and,  speaking  in  a  subdued  and 
gentle  voice,  said: 

"  This  visit  is  not  wholly  unexpected,  Lady  Hurstmonceux  ? " 

"  No,  no,  Mr.  Worth,"  she  murmured,  without  removing  the- 
shield  of  her  hands. 

"  Nor  unwelcome,  I  hope  ? " 

"  No,  oh,  no !  "  she  said,  dropping  her  hands  now  and  looking 
up,  pale,  and  faintly  smiling. 

"  You  will  see  him  then  ? "  said  Ishmael,  speaking,  as  he  had 
spoken  throughout  the  interview,  in  a  low,  gentle  tone. 

"Presently.  Give  me  a  little  time.  Oh,  I  have  waited  for 
him  so  long,  Ishmael,"  she  said,  with  an  involuntary  burst  of 
confidence.  But  then  everyone,  even  the  most  reserved,  con 
fided  in  Ishmael  Worth. 

"  I  have  waited  for  him  so  long,  so  long !  "  she  repeated. 

"He  has  come  at  last,  dearest  lady;  come  to  devote  his  lifa 
to  you,  if  you  will  accept  the  offering,"  Ishmael  murmured, 
bending  over  her. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Worth,  I  am  sure  that  I  owe  this  happiness  to  you," 
the  countess  exclaimed  fervently,  clasping  his  hand  and  hold 
ing  it  while  she  repeated,  " '  Blessed  are  the  peace-makers,  for 
they  shall  be  called  the  children  of  God.' " 

Lowly  and  reverently  Ishmael  bowed  his  head  at  the  hearing 
of  these  words. 

"  Where  is  he,  Mr.  Worth  ?  "  at  length  breathed  Berenice. 

"In  the  carriage  outside,  awaiting  your  pleasure." 

"  Bring  him  to  me,  then,"  she  said,  pressing  his  hand  warmly 
before  she  relinquished  it. 

Ishmael  returned  that  pressure,  and  then  went  out  to  speak 
to  Mr.  Brudenell. 

"  Come  in,  sir.     She  invites  you,"  he  said. 

Herman  Brudenell  stepped  out  of  the  carriage  and  entered 
with  Ishmael.  He  threw  his  eyes  around  upon  the  magnifi- 
pence  that  surrounded  him.  Was  all  this  really  to  be  his  own  ? 


THE   MEETING    OF   THE   SEVERED    PAIE.  471 

the  gift  of  that  sweet  lady's  slighted  love?    He  could  scarcely 
believe  it. 

Ishmael  led  him  through  the  halls  and  upstairs  to  the  library. 

"  She  is  in  there  alone,"  he  whispered. 

"  Go  in  with  me,  Ishmael,"  whispered  the  other. 

But  Ishmael  shook  his  head,  smiled,  opened  the  door,  an 
nounced,  "Mr.  Brudenell,  Lady  Hurstmonceux,"  shut  it  and 
retired. 

Herman  Brudenell  found  himself  alone  in  the  library  with 
his  long-neglected  wife.  She  was  sitting  in  the  armchair,  where 
Ishmael  had  left  her.  She  arose  to  meet  her  visitor;  then  sud 
denly  turned  deadly  pale  and  sunk  back  in  her  chair,  over 
come  by  her  emotions,  but  even  in  so  sinking  she  stretched  her 
hands  out  to  him  in  welcome,  in  invitation,  in  entreaty. 

Slowly  and  deferentially  he  approached  this  woman,  so  holy 
in  her  immortal  love.  And  dropping  on  one  knee,  beside  her 
chair,  he  bent  his  head  and  murmured  in  a  broken  voice: 

"Berenice,  Berenice — can  you  forgive  all  these  long,  long 
years  of  cruel  injustice  ? " 

"  Oh,  bless  you ;  bless  you,  Herman,  for  coming  at  last.  I  am 
so  glad  to  see  you ! "  she  said,  drawing  his  bowed  head  to  her 
bosom,  dropping  her  face  caressingly  upon  it  and  bursting  into 
tears.  A  few  minutes  passed  and  he  was  sitting  by  her  side, 
with  her  hand  clasped  in  his,  telling  her  the  story  of  the  sinful 
and  sorrowful  past,  and  imploring  her  forgiveness. 

Would  she  forgive  him? 

Reader,  Berenice  was  one  of  those  women  whom  the  wisdom 
of  this  world  can  never  understand;  one  of  those  women  who 
love  purely  and  passionately;  who  love  but  once  and  love  for 
ever.  She  loved  Herman  Brudenell;  and  in  saying  this  I  an 
swer  all  questions.  She  would  not  acknowledge  that  she  had 
anything  to  forgive;  she  was  glad  to  give  him  herself  and  all 
that  she  possessed;  she  was  glad  to  make  him  the  absolute  mas 
ter  of  her  person  and  her  fortune.  And  in  giving  all  she  re 
ceived  all,  for  as  she  loved  she  was  happy.  After  some  little 
time  had  elapsed,  and  they  had  both  recovered  from  the  agita 
tion  of  the  meeting,  the  countess  looked  up  at  him  and  inquired : 

"  Who  is  Ishmael  Worth  ?    Who  is  this  young  man,  so  stately, 
yet  so  gracious  ?  so  commanding,  yet  so  meek  ?  who  walks  among 
other  men  as  a  young  king  should,  but  as  a  young  king  never 
does.    Who  is  he?" 
,    "He  is  my  son,"  said  Herman  Brudenell,  proudly  but  shyly ; 


472        SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

"my  son,  the  child  of  that  unfortunate  marriage  contracted 
•when  I  cupposed  that  you  were  lost  to  me;  lost  to  me  in  every 
way,  my  Berenice.  That  marriage  of  which  I  have  already  told 
you.  Do  you  forgive  me,  for  him  also,  Berenice  ? " 

"  I  congratulate  you  on  him,  for  he  is  a  son  to  be  very  proud 
of.  I  glory  in  him,  for  he  is  now  my  son  also,"  said  this  gener 
ous  woman  fervently. 

Herman  Brudenell  raised  her  hand  and  pressed  it  to  his  lips. 

"  Oh,  Herman,  I  knew  it !  I  knew  it  twenty  years  ago,  when 
I  went  to  the  Hill  Hut  and  begged  the  babe  to  bring  up  as  my 
own,"  she  said. 

"  You  did,  Berenice  ?    How  divinely  good  you  are." 

"Goodl  Why,  I  only  sought  my  own  comfort  in  the  babe. 
You  were  lost  to  me  for  the  time,  and  your  child  was  the  best 
consolation  I  could  have  found.  However,  his  stern  kinswoman 
would  not  let  me  have  him;  would  not  even  let  me  help  him; 
denied  that  he  was  yours,  and  almost  turned  me  out  of  doors." 

"  That  was  so  like  Hannah." 

"But  now  at  last  he  is  mine;  my  gifted  son.  How  I  shall 
rejoice  in  him." 

"  He  is  yours,  Berenice,  as  far  as  the  most  profound  esteem 
and  love  can  make  him  yours.  But  Ishmael  will  never  consent 
to  be  publicly  acknowledged  by  me,"  said  Herman  Brudenell 
sorrowfully. 

"  But  why  ? "  inquired  the  countess,  in  astonishment. 

"  For  his  mother's  sake.  Ishmael  cherishes  the  most  chiv- 
alric  devotion  for  his  angel  mother,  and  I  think  also  for  all 
mortal  women,  for  her  sake.  He  bears  her  name,  and  is  fond 
of  it  and  will  ever  bear  it,  that  whatever  fame  he  may  win  in 
this  world  may  be  identified  with  it.  He  has  vowed,  with  the 
blessing  of  Heaven,  to  make  the  name  of  Worth  illustrious, 
and  he  will  do  so." 

"A  chivalric  devotion,  truly;  -and  how  beautiful  it  is.  He 
is  already,  though  so  young,  a  distinguished  member  of  the 
Washington  bar,  I  hear.  How  did  he  get  his  education  and  his 
profession — that  poor  boy,  whom  I  remember  in  his  childhood 
as  tramping  the  country  with  the  old  odd-job  man — that  very 
'  professor '  who  attends  him  as  his  servant  now  ?  You  found 
him  and  educated  him  at  last,  I*  suppose,  Herman  ? " 

A  fiery  flush  arose  to  Mr.  Brudenell's  brow,  displacing  its 
habitual  paleness. 

"No,  Berenice,  no!    'XT"+  to  me,  not  to  any  human  being 


THE   MEETING    OF   THE    SEVERED    PAIB.  473 

does  Ishmael  owe  education  or  profession;  but  to  God  and  to 
himself  alone.  Never  was  a  boy  born  in  this  world  under  more 
adverse  circumstances.  His  birth,  in  its  utter  destitution,  re 
minds  me  (I  speak  it  with  the  deepest  reverence)  of  that  other 
birth  in  the  manger  of  Bethlehem.  His  infancy  was  a  struggle 
for  the  very  breath  of  life;  his  childhood  for  bread;  his  youth 
jfor  education;  and  nobly,  nobly  has  he  sustained  this  struggle 
'and  gloriously  has  he  succeeded.  We  are  yet  in  our  prime,  my 
dear  Berenice,  and  I  feel  sure  that,  if  we  live  out  the  three 
score  years  and  ten  allotted  as  the  term  of  human  life,  we  shall 
see  Ishmael  at  the  zenith  of  human  greatness." 

So  carried  away  had  Mr.  Brudenell  been  in  making  this 
tribute  to  Ishmael  that  he  had  forgotten  to  explain  the  circum 
stances  that  would  have  exonerated  him  from  the  suspicion  of 
having  culpably  neglected  his  child.  Berenice  brought  him 
back  to  his  recollection  by  saying: 

"  But  I  am  sure  you  must  have  made  some  provision  for  this 
boy ;  how  was  it  then  that  he  never  derived  any  benefit  from  it  ? 
How  was  it  that  he  was  left  from  the  hour  of  his  birth  to  suffer 
the  cruelest  privations,  until  the  age  of  seven  years,  when  he 
began  to  support  himself,  and  to  help  support  his  aunt ! " 

"  You  are  right,  Berenice ;  I  made  a  provision  for  him ;  but 
I  left  the  country,  and  he  never  had  the  good  of  it.  I  will  ex 
plain  how  that  was  by  and  by;  but  I  believe  the  loss  of  it  was 
providential.  I  believe  it  was  intended  from  the  first  that  Ish 
mael  should  '  owe  no  man  anything,'  for  life,  or  bread,  or  edu 
cation,  or  profession;  but  all  to  God  and  God's  blessing  on  his 
own  efforts.  He  is  self-made.  I  know  no  other  man  in  history 
to  whom  the  term  can  be  so  perfectly  well  applied." 

"  Will  you  tell  me  all  you  know  of  his  early  struggles  ?  I  am 
!so  interested  in  this  stately  son  of  yours,"  said  Berenice,  who, 
while  admiring  Ishmael  herself,  saw  also  that  he  was  the  theme 
above  all  others  that  Mr.  Brudenell  loved  to  dwell  upon. 
!  Herman  Brudenell  told  the  story  of  Ishmael's  heroic  young 
life,  as  he  had  gathered  it  from  many  sources.  And  Berenice 
listened  in  admiration,  in  wonder,  and  sometimes  in  tears. 
And  yet  it  was  only  the  plain  story  of  a  poor  boy  who  struggled 
up  out  of  the  depths  of  poverty,  shame,  and  ignorance,  to  com 
petence,  honor,  and  distinction;  a  story  that  may  be  repeated 
again  in  the  person  of  the  obscurest  boy  that  reads  these 
lines. 

After  a  little  while,  given  to  meditation  on  what  she  had 


474        SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

heard,  Berenice,  with  her  hand  still  clasped  in  that  of  Herman 
Brudenell,  looked  up  at  him  and  said : 

"  Your  mother  and  sisters  ?  " 

Slowly  and  sadly  Mr.  Brudenell  shook  his  head: 

"  Ah,  Berenice !  I  shall  have  to  tell  you  now  of  a  family  self- 
marred,  as  a  set-off  to  the  boy  self-made." 

And  then  he  told  the  grievous  story  of  the  decadence  of  the 
Brudenell  ladies,  not,  of  course,  forgetting  the  mad  marriage 
of  Eleanor  Brudenell  with  the  profligate  Captain  Dugald. 

While  Bernice  was  still  wondering  over  these  family  mis 
takes  and  misfortunes,  a  footman  opened  the  door  and  said : 

"My  lady,  dinner  is  served." 

"  Have  Judge  Merlin  and  Lady  Vincent  returned  from  their 
drive?"  inquired  the  countess. 

"  Yes,  my  lady ;  the  judge  and  her  ladyship  are  in  the  drawing 
room  with  Mr.  Worth." 

"  Mr.  Brudenell,  will  you  give  me  your  arm  ? "  said  the 
countess,  rising,  with  a  smile. 

Herman  Brudenell  bowed  and  complied.  And  they  left  the 
library  and  passed  on  to  the  little  drawing  room.  As  they  en 
tered  they  saw  Judge  Merlin,  Ishmael,  and  Claudia  standing, 
grouped  in  conversation,  near  the  fire. 

The  situation  of  this  long-severed  and  suddenly  reunited 
pair  was  certainly  rather  embarassing,  especially  to  the  lady; 
and  to  almost  any  other  one  it  would  have  been  overwhelming. 
But  Berenice  was  a  refined,  cultivated,  and  dignified  woman 
of  society;  such  a  woman  never  loses  her  self-possession;  she  is 
always  mistress  of  the  situation.  Berenice  was  so  now.  But 
for  the  bright  light  in  her  usually  pensive  dark  eyes,  and  the 
rosy  flush  on  her  habitually  pale  cheeks,  there  was  no  difference 
in  her  aspect,  as,  with  her  hand  lightly  resting  on  Mr.  Bru- 
denell's  arm,  she  advanced  towards  the  group. 

Claudia  turned  around,  not  -altogether  in  surprise,  for  Ish- 
j-nael  had  thoughtfully  prepared  them  all  for  this  new  addi 
tion  to  the  family  circle. 

"Lady  Vincent,  I  believe  you  have  already  met  my  husband, 
Mr.  Brudenell,"  said  the  coxmtess,  gravplv  presenting  him  to 
her  guest.  And  the  form  of  her  words  pvrposely  revealed  the 
reconciliation  that  had  just  been  sealed. 

"Oh,  yes,  I  know  Mr.  Brndo^oll  veil.  :i?vl  T  am  very  glad  to 
see  him  again,"  said  Claudia,  offering  her  hand. 

u  I  had  the  honor  of  passing  some  weeks  in  Lady  Vincent's 


HOME   AGATFT.  475 

company  at  her  father's  house  in  Washington,"  said  Mr.  Bru 
denell,  gravely  bowing.  He  next  turned  and  shook  hands  with 
Judge  Merlin.  But  the  old  man  retained  his  hand,  and  took  also 
that  of  the  countess,  and  as  the  tears  sprang  to  his  aged  eyes, 
he  said: 

"  Dear  Brudenell,  and  dearest  lady,  I  sympathize  with  you  in 
this  reunion  with  all  my  heart.  May  you  be  very  happy;  God 
bless  you ! "  and  pressing  both  their  hands,  he  relinquished 
them. 

Mr.  Brudenell  and  the  countess  simultaneously  bowed  in 
silent  acknowledgment  of  this  benediction. 

Claudia  involuntarily  looked  up  to  Ishmael's  face;  their  eyes 
met — hers  betraying  the  yearning  anguish  of  a  famishing 
heart,  and  his  the  most  earnest  sympathy,  the  most  reverential 
compassion.  Why  did  Claudia  look  at  him  so?  Ah!  because 
she  could  not  help  it.  What  was  she  dreaming  of?  Perhaps 
of  another  possible  reunion,  that  should  compensate  her  for  all 
the  woeful  past,  and  bless  her  in  all  the  happy  future. 

A  moment  more,  and  the  folding  doors  connecting  -he  draw 
ing  room  with  the  dining  room  were  thrown  open. 

"  Mr.  Brudenell,  will  you  take  Lady  Vincent  in  to  dinner  ?  " 
said  the  countess,  with  a  smile,  as  she  herself  gave  her  hand  to 
Ishmael. 

And  thus  they  passed  into  the  dining  room. 

But  for  the  sadness  of  one  mourning  spirit  present,  the  dinner 
was  a  pleasant  one.  And  the  reunion  in  the  drawing  room  that 
evening  was  calmly  happy. 

CHAPTER  LTTT. 

HOME  AGAIN. 

Home  again!  home  again! 

Prom  a  foreign  shore! 
And  oh,  it  fills  my  heart  with  joy 

To  greet  my  friends  once  more. 

Mnsic  sweet!  mnsic  soft! 

Lingers  round  the  place; 
And  on,  I  feel  the  childhood's  charm. 

That  time  cannot  efface! 

— M.  8.  Pike. 

It  had  been  decided  in  consultation  between  Judge  Merlin 
and  Ishmael  that,  under  existing  circumstances,  it  would  be 


476        SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  HIE  DEPTHS. 

proper  for  their  party  to  shorten  their  visit  to  Cameron  Court, 
and  leave  the  recently  reconciled  pair  to  the  enjoyment  of  their 
own  exclusive  company. 

And  accordingly,  while  they  were  all  seated  at  luncheon 
the  next  day,  Wednesday,  Judge  Merlin  announced  their  de 
parture  for  Thursday  morning. 

This  announcement  was  met  by  a  storm  of  hospitable  ex 
postulation.  Both  the  countess  and  Mr.  Brudenell  strongly 
objected  to  the  early  departure  of  their  visitors,  and  urged  their 
prolonged  stay. 

But,  to  all  this  friendly  solicitation,  the  judge  replied: 

"  My  dear  countess,  painful  as  it  will  be  for  us  all  to  leave 
Cameron  Court,  there  are  imperative  reasons  for  our  doing  so. 
It  is  not  only  that  we  have  engaged  our  passages  on  the  steamer 
that  sails  on  the  15th  of  this  month  of  February,  but  that  un 
less  we  really  do  sail  on  that  day,  we  shall  not  have  sufficient 
time  to  cross  the  ocean  and  get  into  port  before  the  stormy 
month  of  March  sets  in." 

"  But  this  is  only  Wednesday.  The  '  Columbus '  does  not 
Bail  until  Saturday  after  next.  You  might  stay  with  us  a  week 
longer,  and  then  have  abundant  time  to  run  down  to  Liver 
pool  and  get  comfortably  embarked,"  said  the  countess. 

"  Thank  you,  dear  lady ;  but  the  truth  is,  I  wish  to  show  my 
daughter  London  before  we  sail,"  replied  the  judge. 

"  The  truth  is,"  said  the  countess,  smiling,  "  that  you  are 
all  weary  of  Cameron  Court.  Well,  so  I  will  no  longer  oppose 
your  departure.  Very  early  in  life  I  learned  the  twofold  duty 
of  hospitality :  '  to  greet  the  coming,  speed  the  parting  guest.' " 

"Lady  Hurstmonceux,  we  are  not  weary  of  Cameron  Court. 
On  the  contrary  we  are  attached  to  it,  warmly  attached  to  it; 
we  have  been  happier  here  than  we  could  have  been  anywhere 
else,  while  under  our  adverse  circumstances.  And  we  shall  take 
leave  of  you,  madam,  with  the  deepest  regret — regret  only  to  be 
softened  by  the  hope  of  seeing  you  some  time  in  America,"  said 
the  judge  gravely. 

The  countess  bowed  and  smiled,  but  did  not  in  any  other 
manner  reply. 

"  Oh,  Berenice ;  dear  Berenice !  You  will  come  out  to  see  'is, 
some  time,  will  you  not  ? "  urged  Claudia. 

The  countess  looked  toward  her  husband  with  that  proud, 
fond  deference  which  loving  wives  glory  in  bestowing,  and  she 
said: 


HOME   AGAIN.  477 

"When  Mr.  Bmdenell  visits  his  mother  and  sisters  I  shall 
of  course  accompany  him,  and  we  shall  spend  a  portion  of  our 
time  at  Tanglewood,  if  you  will  permit  us." 

"Berenice,  Berenice;  what  words  you  use!  We  know  how 
happy  we  should  be  to  see  you,"  said  Claudia. 

"  And  how  honored,"  said  the  judge. 

j^ady  Hurstmonceux  smiled  on  Claudia  and  bowed  to  the 
judge.  And  then  the  circle  arose  from  the  luncheon  table 
and  dispersed. 

That  day  Ishmael  wrote  to  Bee,  announcing  the  speedy  return 
of  himself  and  his  party,  and  Judge  Merlin  wrote  to  his  mana 
ger,  Reuben  Gray,  to  have  the  house  at  Tanglewood  prepared  for 
the  reception  of  himself  and  daughter  on  or  before  the  1st  of 
March. 

Early  on  Thursday  morning  eur  party  took  a  most  affection 
ate  leave  of  their  friends  at  Cameron  Court,  and  set  out  in  one 
of  the  countess'  carriages  for  the  railway  station  &t  Edinboro', 
which  they  reached  in  time  to  catch  the  ten  o'clock  express  for 
London. 

A  twelve  hours'  flight  southward  brought  them  into  that  city. 
It  was  ten  o'clock,  therefore,  when  they  ran  into  the  King's 
Cross  Station.  There  they  took  a  fly  to  Morley's  Hotel,  in  the 
Strand,  where  they  arrived  about  eleven  o'clock.  They  en 
gaged  a  suite  of  apartments,  and  settled  themselves  there  for  a 
week.  A  very  brief  epitome  must  describe  their  life  in  London 
during  that  short  period. 

It  was  Thursday  night  when  they  arrived. 

On  Friday  morning  they  visited  the  Tower,  taking  the  whole 
day  for  the  study  of  that  ancient  fortress  and  its  awful  tra 
ditions;  and  in  the  evening  they  went  to  Drury  Lane,  to  see 
Kean  in  "Macbeth." 

On  Saturday  morning  they  went  to  Westminster  Abbey,  and 
in  the  evening  to  Covent  Garden. 

On  Sunday  they  attended  divine  service  at  St.  Paul's,  morn 
ing  and  afternoon,  and  they  <spent  the  evening  at  home. 

On  Monday  they  visited  the  two  Houses  of  Parliament,  and 
in  the  evening  they  wer.t  to  the  Polytechnic. 

On  Tuesday  they  went  over  the  old  prison  of  Newgate,  and 
in  the  evening  they  heard  a  celebrated  philanthropist  lecture 
at  Exeter  Hall. 

On  Wednesday  they  went  down  to  Windsor  and  went  over 
Windsor  Castle,  park,  and  forest,  and  they  spent  the  evening 


478        SELF-KAISED;  OB,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

looking  over  the  illustrated  guidebooks  that  described  these 
places. 

On  Thursday  morning  they  returned  to  London,  and  em 
ployed  the  day  in  shopping  and  other  preparations  for  their 
homeward  voyage;  and  Ishmael,  among  his  more  important 
purchases,  did  not  forget  the  dolls  for  little  Molly,  nor  the  box 
of  miniature  carpenter's  tools  for  Johnny.  They  passed  this 
last  evening  of  their  stay  quietly  at  home. 

On  Friday  morning  they  left  London  for  Liverpool,  where 
they  arrived  at  nightfall.  They  put  up  at  the  "  Adelphi,"  the 
hotel  favored  by  all  American  travelers,  and  where  they  found 
all  their  national  tastes  gratified. 

Early  on  Saturday  morning  they  embarked  on  their  home 
ward-bound  steamer  and  sailed  from  England.  They  were 
blessed  with  one  of  the  most  favorable  voyages  on  record;  the 
wind  was  fair,  the  sky  was  blue,  and  the  sea  smooth  from  the  be 
ginning  to  the  end  of  their  voyage,  and  on  the  evening  of  the 
tenth  day  out  they  ran  safely  into  the  harbor  of  New  York. 
This  was  Thursday,  the  25th  of  February. 

The  evening  mail  for  the  South  had  not  yet  gone ;  and,  while 
•waiting  in  the  office  of  the  Custom  House,  Ishmael  wrote  to  Bee, 
announcing  the  safe  arrival  of  his  party;  and  the  judge  dashed 
off  a  few  lines  to  Reuben  Gray,  warning  him  to  have  all  things 
ready  to  receive  the  returning  voyagers. 

Only  one  night  they  rested  in  the  city,  and  then  on  Friday 
morning  they  left  New  York,  taking  the  shortest  route  to  Tan- 
glewood — namely,  by  railroad  as  far  as  Baltimore,  and  then  by 
steamboat  to  Shelton,  on  the  Potomac. 

Our  whole  party  landed  at  Shelton  on  Saturday  evening. 
The  judge  dispatched  a  messenger  on  horseback  from  the  little 
hotel  to  Tanglewood,  to  order  Reuben  Gray  to  have  the  fires 
kindled  and  supper  ready  against  their  arrival,  and  then,  after 
some  little  search, — for  the  hamlei  boasted  few  hackney  coaches, 
— they  found  a  carriage  for  the  judge  and  his  companions  and 
a  wagon  for  the  servants  and  the  luggage.  It  was  nine  o'clock 
•when  they  reached  Tanglewood. 

Hannah  and  Reuben  were  standing  out  under  the  starlight, 
listening  for  the  sound  of  wheels,  and  they  ran  forward  to  greet 
them  as  they  alighted  from  the  carriage. 

"Oh,  welcome;  welcome  home,  sir!  Thank  God,  I  receive 
you  safe  again ! "  exclaimed  Reuben  Gray,  as  he  grasped  th« 
judge's  extended  hand  and  wept  for  joy. 


HOME   AGAIN.  479 

"  Thank  you,  thank  you,  Gray.  I'm  happy  to  be  home  once 
more." 

"  Oh,  my  boy ;  my  boy !  Do  I  see  you  again  ?  Do  I  really 
see  you  again  ?  Thank  Heaven ;  oh,  thank  Heaven ! "  cried 
Hannah,  bursting  into  a  passion  of  tears,  as  she  threw  her  arms 
around  Ishmael's  neck  and  was  pressed  to  his  affectionate 
heart. 

"  God  bless  you,  dear  Aunt  Hannah !  I  am  very  glad  to  come 
to  you  again  ?  How  are  the  little  ones  ?  " 

"  Oh,  as  well  as  possible,  dear." 

"  Speak  to  Lady  Vincent,"  whispered  Ishmael. 

"Madam,  I  am  very  glad  to  see  you  home  once  more,  but 
sorry  to  see  you  in  such  deep  mourning,"  said  Hannah  respect 
fully. 

Judge  Merlin  then  hurried  the  whole  party  out  of  the  biting 
•winter  air  into  the  house.  Here  they  found  all  ready  for  them; 
the  fires  kindled,  the  rooms  warmed,  the  tables  set  in  the  com 
fortable  parlor,  and  the  supper  ready  to  be  dished.  They  took 
time  only  to  make  a  very  slight  toilet  in  their  well-warmed  cham 
bers,  and  then  they  went  down  to  supper.  The  judge  insisted 
that  Hannah  and  Reuben  should  join  them  on  this  occasion  and 
remain  their  guests  for  the  evening.  And  what  a  happy  evening 
it  was.  After  all  their  weary  wanderings,  perils  and  sorrows  in 
foreign  lands,  how  delightful  to  be  at  home  once  more  in  their 
dear  native  country,  gathered  together  under  one  beloved  roof, 
and  lovingly  served  by  their  own  affectionate  domestics.  Ah! 
one  must  lose  all  these  blessings  for  a  while,  in  order  to  truly 
to  enjoy  them. 

How  earnest  was  the  thanksgiving  in  the  grace  uttered  by 
the  judge  as  they  all  gathered  around  the  supper  table!  How 
earnest  was  the  amen  silently  responded  by  each  heart ! 

After  supper  they  all  went  into  the  well  warmed  and  lighted 
crimson  drawing  room.  And  Claudia  sat  down  before  her  grand 
piano,  and  tried  its  keys.  From  long  disuse  it  was  somewhat 
out  of  tune,  certainly;  but  her  fingers  evoked  from  those  keys 
a  beautiful  prelude,  and  her  voice  rose  in  that  simple,  but  soul- 
stirring  little  ballad,  "  Home  Again." 

As  she  sang  Ishmael  came  up  behind  her,  turned  the  leaves  of 
her  music  book,  and  accompanied  her  in  his  rich  bass  voice. 
At  the  end  of  that  one  song  she  arose  and  closed  her  piano. 

"  Thank  you,  my  dear,"  said  the  judge,  drawing  his  daughter 
to  him  and  kissing  her  cheek.  "  Your  song  was  very  appropri- 


480  SELF-RAISED  \  OR,    FROM   THE   DEPTH8 

ate;  there  is  not  one  here  who  could  not  enter  into  its  senti 
ment  with  all  his  heart." 

Slowly  and  sadly  Claudia  bowed  her  head;  and  then  she 
passed  on  to  one  of  the  side  tables,  took  up  a  lighted  bedroom 
candle,  bade  them  all  good-night  and  retired. 

Reuben  and  Hannah,  who  on  this  occasion,  at  Judge  Merlin's 
(request,  had  remained  in  the  drawing  room,  now  arose  and  took 
,a  respectful  leave.  And  soon  after  this,  Ishmael  and  the  judge 
separated  and  retired  to  their  respective  chambers. 
*  Ishmael  was  shown  into  that  one  which  he  had  occupied 
during  that  eventful  first  sojourn  at  Tanglewood.  How  full  of 
the  most  interesting  associations,  the  most  tender  memories, 
that  chamber  was.  There  was  the  bed  upon  which  he  had  lain 
for  weeks,  a  mangled  sufferer  for  Claudia's  sake.  There  was 
the  very  same  armchair  she  had  sat  in  hour  after  hour  by  his 
Bide,  beguiling  the  tedious  days  of  convalescence  by  talking  with 
him,  reading  to  him,  or  singing  and  playing  to  him  on  her 
guitar.  Sigh  after  sigh  burst  from  Ishmael's  bosom  as  he  re 
membered  these  times.  He  went  to  bed,  but  could  not  sleep ;  he 
lay  awake,  meditating  and  praying. 

While  Ishmael  in  his  lonely  chamber  prayed,  another  scene 
•was  going  on  in  another  part  of  the  house. 

Old  Katie  was  holding  a  reception  in  the  kitchen.  All  the 
house  servants,  all  the  field  laborers,  and  all  the  neighboring 
negroes — bond  and  free,  male  and  female — were  assembled  at 
Tanglewood  that  night  to  welcome  Katie  and  her  companions 
home  and  hear  their  wondrous  adventures  in  foreign  lands. 

Katie,  in  the  most  gorgeous  dress  of  Scotch  plaid,  that  dis 
played  the  most  brilliant  tints  of  scarlet,  blue  and  yellow,  pur 
ple,  orange,  and  green,  with  a  snow-white  turban  on  her  head 
and  a  snow-white  kerchief  around  her  neck,  with  broad  gold 
fear-rings  in  her  ears  and  thick  gold  finger-rings  on  her  fingers — 
mat  in  the  seat  of  honor,  the  chip-bottom  armchair,  and,  for  the 
(benefit  of  the  natives,  delivered  a  lecture  on  the  manners  and 
customs  of  foreign  nations,  illustrated  by  her  own  experiences 
among  them. 

Now,  if  Katie  had  only  related  the  plain  facts  of  her  life 
in  Scotland  and  in  the  West  India  Islands,  they  had  been 
sufficiently  interesting  to  her  simple  hearers,  but  Katie  exag 
gerated  her  adventures,  wrongs,  and  sufferings  beyond  all  hope 
of  pardon. 

"  I  seen  the  Queen,"  she  said.    "  She  rode  about  in  a  silver 


HOME   AGAIN.  481 

coach  drawed  by  a  hundred  milk-white  hosses,  wid  a  golden 
crown  on  her  head  a  yard  and  a  half  high,  and  more  niggers 
*x>  wait  on  her,  chillun,  dan  you  could  shake  sticks  at." 

The  least  of  her  fictions  was  this : 

"  Chillun,  I  was  fust  kilt  dead,  den  buried  alibe,  and  kept 
BO  till  wanted;  den  fotch  to  life  ag'in,  and  sold  to  pirates,  and 
took  off  to  de  Stingy  Isles,  and  sold  ag'in  into  slabery;  arter 
which  Marster  Ishmael  Worf  drapped  right  down  out'ii  do 
clear  sky  inter  de  middle  ob  de  street,  and  if  you  don't  beliebe  it 
jes  go  ax  Marse  Ishmael  hisse'f,  as  nebber  told  a  falsehood  in  his 
life." 

"  And  so  he  brought  you  away,  Katie  ? "  inquired  Reuben's 
Sam,  who  was,  of  course,  present. 

"  Well,  I  jes  reckon  he  did  some !  He  made  dem  Stingy 
Island  barbariums  stan'  roun'  now,  I  tell  you,  chillun." 

Katie  went  on  with  her  lecture.  Her  version  of  the  fate  of 
Lord  Vincent,  Mrs.  Dugald,  and  Frisbie  was  rather  a  free  one. 

"  I  walked  myse'f  right  'traight  up  to  de  Queen  soon  as  ebber 
I  totched  English  ground,  and  told  her  all  about  dem  gran' 
willians,  and  de  Queen  ordered  de  execution  ob  de  whole  lot. 
Which  dey  was  all  hung  up  by  de  neck  till  dey  was  dead  de 
berry  next  mornin',"  ske  said. 

"  What,  all  hung  so  quick,  Katie ! "  exclaimed  Sam,  in  as 
tonishment. 

"  All  hung ;  ebery  single  one  ob  dem.  My  lordship  and  de 
shamwally  and  de  whited  saltpeter.  All  hung  up  by  de  neck 
till  dey  was  dead,  in  de  middle  ob  de  street,  right  in  de  sight 
ob  ebberybody  going  along,  and  serbe  'em  right  and  hopes  it 
did  'em  good,"  said  Katie  emphatically. 

"  That  was  quick  work,  though,"  said  Sam  dubiously. 

"  Quick  work  ?  Dey  deserbed  it  quick,  and  quicker  dan  dat. 
Hi,  boy,  what  you  talkin'  'bout?  Didn't  dey  kill  me  dead,  and 
bury  me  alibe,  a»d  sell  me  inter  slabery?  You  'spect  how  de 
Queen  gwine  let  sich  going  on  go  on  while  she's  de  mis'tess  ob 
England  ?  No,  'deed ;  not  arter  she  see  all  dey  made  me  suffer," 
exploded  Katie. 

"  'Deed,  Aunt  Katie,  you  did  see  heep  o'  trouble,  didn't  you  ?  " 
said  one  of  her  amazed  hearers. 

"Yes;  but,  you  see,  Aunt  Katie  wanted  to  see  de  worl'I 
'Member  how  she  used  to  tell  us  how  she  wasn't  a  tree  as  couldn't 
be  transplanted,  and  how  she  was  a  libin'  soul,  and  a  p'og'es- 
eive  sperrit,  and  how  she  wanted  to  see  somefin'  ob  dis  worl' 


482  SELF-EAISED  J   OR,    FROM  THE   DEPTHS. 

she  libbed  in  afore  she  parted  hence  and  beed  no  more,"  said 
another. 

"Well,  I  reckon  you  has  seed  'nough  ob  de  worl'  now. 
Hasn't  you,  Aunt  Katie?"  inquired  a  third. 

"  Well,  I  jes  reckon  I  has,  chillun.  I  nebber  wants  to  see  no 
more  ob  dis  worl'  long  as  ebber  I  libs  on  dis  yeth,  dere.  I  be 
satisfied  to  settle  down  here  at  Tanglewood  for  de  'mainder  ob 
my  mortal  days,  and  thank  my  'Vine  Marster  down  on  my 
knees  as  I  has  got  here  safe,"  said  Katie. 

"If  I  was  you,  Aunt  Katie,  I'd  publish  my  travels,"  said 
Sam. 

"  I  gwine  to,  honey,  'deed  is  I.  I  gwine  to  publish  urn  good, 
too.  I  gwine  to  get  my  extinguish  friend,  de  professor  dere, 
to  write  um  all  down  fur  me;  and  I  gwine  to  publish  um  good. 
And  now,  Sam,  chile,  as  de  kettle  is  b'iling,  I  wish  you  jes'  make 
de  hot  punch,  'cause  I'se  dead  tired,  and  arter  I  drinks  it  ] 
wants  to  go  to  bed." 

And  when  the  punch  was  made  and  served  around,  this  cir 
cle  also  separated  for  the  night. 

The  next  morning,  before  breakfast,  Ishmael  walked  through 
the  forest  to  Woodside  to  see  the  little  children  of  whom  he  was 
so  fond.  They  were  already  up  and  waiting  for  him  at  tho 
gate.  On  seeing  him  they  rushed  out  to  meet  him  with  ac 
clamations  of  joy,  and  laid  hold  of  his  overcoat  and  began  to 
pull  him  towards  the  house. 

Ishmael  smiled  on  them,  and  talked  to  them,  and  would  have 
taken  them  up  in  his  arms,  but  that  his  arms  were  already  full, 
for  under  one  was  Molly's  family  of  dolls  and  under  the  other 
Johnny's  box  of  tools.  Smilingly  he  suffered  them  to  pull  him 
into  the  house,  and  push  him  into  the  arm-chair,  and  climb  up 
on  his  knees  and  seize  and  search  his  parcels. 

Molly  knew  her  parcel  by  the  feet  of  the  dolls  protruding 
through  the  end  of  the  paper,  and  she  quickly  laid  hands  on 
it,  sat  down  flat  on  the  floor  and  tore  it  to  pieces,  revealing  to 
her  delighted  eyes: 

"  Dolls,  and  more  dolls,  and  so  many  dolls ! "  as  she  ecstati 
cally  expressed  it.  Then  in  the  midst  of  her  bliss,  she  suddenly 
remembered  her  benefactor,  dropped  all  her  treasures,  jumped 
into  his  lap,  throw  her  arms  around  his  neck,  and  said : 

"  Oh,  Cousin  Ishmael,  what  pretty  dolls !  I  will  pray  to  the 
Lord  to  give  you  a  great  many  things  for  giving  me  these." 

Ishmael  kissed  her  very  gravely  and  said: 


HOME   AGAIN".  483 

"Pray  to  the  Lord  to  give  me  wisdom,  Molly,  for  that  is  the 
best  of  all  gifts,  and  I  would  rather  a  child  should  ask  it  for 
me  than  a  bishop  should." 

And  he  sat  Molly  down  again  to  enjoy  her  treasures. 

Meanwhile  Johnny  had  torn  open  his  box  of  miniature  car 
penter's  tools  and  run  out  to  try  their  edges  on  the  fences  and 
out-houses;  and  all  without  one  word  of  thanks  to  the  donor. 
Boys,  you  know,  are  about  as  grateful  as  pigs,  who  devour  the 
acorns  without  ever  once  looking  up  to  see  whence  they  come. 

At  the  moment  that  Ishmael  sat  Molly  down  upon  the  floor, 
Hannah  came  in  from  a  back  room,  where  she  had  been  at  work. 

On  seeing  the  dolls  she  lifted  both  her  hands  and  cried  out: 

"  Oh,  Ishmael,  Ishmael,  what  extravagance !  " 

"  Not  at  all,  aunt.  Look  at  little  Molly !  See  how  much  hap 
piness  has  been  purchased  at  a  trifling  outlay,  and  talk  no  more 
of  extravagance,"  said  Ishmael,  rising  and  taking  his  hat. 

"  Where  are  you  going  now  ?  You  have  not  been  here  a  min 
ute,"  said  Hannah. 

"  Pardon  me,  I  have  been  here  half  an  hour,  and  now  I  must 
go  back  to  Tanglewood,  because  they  will  wait  breakfast  for 
me  there." 

"  Well,  I  declare !  "  wrathf ully  began  Hannah,  but  Ishmael 
gently  interrupted  her : 

"  I  have  bought  a  fine  Scotch  tartan  shawl  for  you,  Aunt 
Hannah,  and  a  heavy  shepherd's  maud  for  Uncle  Reuben.  They 
are  such  articles  as  you  cannot  purchase  in  this  country.  I  will 
send  them  to  you  by  one  of  the  servants.  I  would  have  brought 
them  myself,  only  you  see  my  arms  were  full." 

"  Well,  I  should  think  so.  Thank  you,  Ishmael !  Thank  you 
very  much  indeed.  But  when  are  you  coming  here  to  stop  a 
bit?" 

"  Just  as  soon  as  I  can,  Aunt  Hannah.  This  morning  I 
must  go  to  The  Beacon.  You  may  well  suppose  how  anxious 
I  am  to  be  there." 

"Humph!  I  thought  now  Mrs.  Lord  Vincent  was  a  widder, 
all  that  was  over." 

"  Aunt  Hannah,  what  do  you  take  me  for  ? "  exclaimed  the 
young  man,  in  sorrowful  astonishment. 

"Well,  Ishmael,  I  didn't  mean  to  insult  you,  PO  you  needn't 
bite  my  head  off,"  snapped  Mrs.  Gray. 

"  Good-by,  Aunt  Hannah,"  said  Ishmael,  stooping  and  kissing 
her  cheek. 


484        SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

He  hurried  away  and  walked  briskly  through  the  woods  and 
reached  the  house  in  good  time  for  breakfast;  and  a  happy 
breakfast  it  was,  but  for  one  sad  face  there.  The  old  man  wa? 
so  delighted  to  be  home  again,  under  his  own  forest-shaded  roof, 
seated  at  his  own  table,  attended  by  his  own  affectionate  serv 
ants,  that  it  seemed  as  though  the  years  had  rolled  back  in  their 
course  and  restored  to  him  all  the  freshness  of  his  youth. 

After  breakfast  Ishmael  arose  and  announced  his  departure 
for  The  Beacon,  and  requested  of  the  judge  the  loan  of  two 
saddle  horses. 

"Ishmael,  you  have  refused  all  compensation  beyond  your 
traveling  expenses  for  your  services;  and  I  know,  indeed,  they 
were  of  a  nature  that  money  could  not  repay.  Yet  I  do  wish  to 
make  you  some  more  substantial  acknowledgment  than  empty 
words  of  my  indebtedness  to  you.  Now  there  is  my  Arabian 
courser,  Mahomet.  He  is  a  gift  worthy  of  even  your  acceptance, 
Ishmael.  He  has  not  his  equal  in  America.  I  refused  three 
thousand  dollars  for  him  before  I  went  to  Europe.  I  will  not 
lend  him  to  you,  Ishmael !  I  will  beg  your  acceptance  of  him — 
there,  now  don't  refuse!  I  shall  never  use  him  again,  and 
Claudia  cannot,  for  he  is  not  a  lady's  horse,  you  know." 

"  I  shall  never  ride  again,"  here  put  in  Claudia,  in  a  sorrow 
ful  voice. 

Ishmael  started  and  turned  towards  her;  but  she  had  arisen 
from  the  table  and  withdrawn  to  the  window-seat. 

Judge  Merlin  continued  to  press  his  gift  upon  the  young  man. 
But  though  Ishmael  had  almost  a  passion  for  fine  horses,  he 
hesitated  to  accept  this  munificent  present  until  he  saw  that 
his  refusal  would  give  the  judge  great  pain.  Then,  with  sin 
cere  expressions  of  gratitude,  he  frankly  accepted  it. 

The  judge  rang  a  bell  and  ordered  Mahomet  saddled  and 
brought  around  for  Mr.  Worth,  and  a  groom's  horse  for  his  serv 
ant. 

Ishmael  put  on  his  riding-coat  and  took  his  hat  and  gloves. 
When  the  horses  were  announced,  Ishmael  went  and  shook  hands 
with  his  host. 

"  God  bless  you,  Ishmael ;  God  bless  you,  my  dear  boy,  for  all 
that  you  have  done  for  me  and  for  mine!  Yea,  God  bless  you, 
and  speed  the  time  when  you  shall  be  nearer  to  me  than  at 
present,"  said  the  judge,  pressing  both  Ishmael's  hands  before 
lie  dropped  them. 

Ishmael  then  crossed  the  room  to  take  leave  of  Claudia.    She 


WHICH   IS   THE   BHIDE  ?  485 

was  sitting  in  the  armchair,  within  the  recess  of  the  bay  win 
dow  ;  her  elbow  rested  on  a  little  stand  at  her  side,  and  her  head 
was  bowed  upon  her  hand;  this  was  her  usual  attitude  now. 

"  Farewell,  Lady  Vincent,"  said  Ishmael,  in  a  grave,  sweet 
voice,  as  he  stood  before  her.  She  raised  her  head  and  looked  at 
him.  Oh,  what  a  world  of  grief,  despair,  and  passionate  remorse 
was  expressed  in  those  large,  dark,  tearless  eyes! 

"  Farewell,  Lady  Vincent,"  said  Ishmael,  deferentially  tak 
ing  her  hand. 

Her  fingers  closed  spasmodically  upon  his,  as  though  she 
would  have  held  him  to  her  side  forever. 

"  Oh,  must  it  be  indeed  farewell,  Ishmael  ? "  she  breathed  in 
a  voice  expiring  with  anguish. 

"  Farewell,"  he  repeated  gravely,  kindly,  reverentially ;  bow 
ing  low  over  the  throbbing  hand  he  held;  and  then  he  turned 
and  softly  left  the  room. 

"It  is  his  sense  of  honor.  Oh,  it  is  his  chivalric,  nay,  his 
fanatical  sense  of  honor  that  is  ruining  us!  Unless  Bee  has 
the  good  taste  and  modesty  to  release  him  voluntarily,  he  will 
sacrifice  me,  himself,  and  her,  to  the  Moloch,  Honor,"  wailad 
Claudia,  as  she  dropped  her  head  upon  her  hands  in  a  grief 
too  deep  for  tears. 

Was  she  right? 

CHAPTER  LIV. 

WHICH  IS  THE  BRIDE? 

His  horse  went  on,  hoof  after  hoef, 

Went  on  and  never  stopped, 
Till  down  behind  the  Mansion  roof, 

At  once,  the  red  sun  dropped. 

What  fond  and  wayward  thoughts  will  slide 
Into  a  lover's  head! — 

•'  Oh,  Heaven!  "  to  himself  he  cried, 
If— if  she  should  be  dead!  " 

—  Wordsworth. 

"ishmael  galloped  along  the  road  leading  to  The  Beacon,  fol 
lowed  at  a  short  distance  by  the  professor,  who  found  some 
difficulty  in  keeping  up  with  his  master. 

Ishmuel's  aspect  was  not  altogether  that  of  a  happy  lover 
going  to  see  his  beloved;  for  his  countenance  was  thoughtful, 
grave,  and  sad.  How  could  it  be  otherwise  with  him,  after  ths 


486        SELF-RAISED;  on,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

scene  he  had  left?  His  thoughts,  his  sympathies,  his  regrets 
were  with  Claudia,  the  earliest  friend  of  his  friendless  child 
hood;  with  Claudia,  grand,  noble,  and  beautiful,  even  in  the 
wreck  of  her  happiness;  with  Claudia,  loving  now  as  she  had 
never  loved  before.  Yes,  his  thoughts,  his  regrets,  his  sympa 
thies  were  with  her,  but  where  were  his  love,  his  esteem,  and 
his  admiration? 

As  he  rode  on  the  figure  of  Claudia,  in  her  woe,  became  lost 
in  a  shadow  that  was  gradually  stealing  over  his  soul — one  of 
those  mysterious  shadows  that  approaching  misfortunes  are 
said  to  cast  before  them.  In  vain  he  tried  by  reason  to  dispel 
this  gloom.  The  nearer  he  approached  The  Beacon,  the  deeper 
it  settled  upon  his  spirit! 

What  could  it  mean  ?  Was  all  well  at  The  Beacon  ?  Was  all 
well  with  Bee? 

Reuben  Gray,  when  questioned,  had  said  that  he  had  not 
heard  from  them  in  a  week.  And  what  might  not  have  hap 
pened  in  a  week?  At  that  thought  a  pang  like  death  shot 
through  his  heart,  and  he  put  spurs  to  his  horse  and  urged 
him  forward  at  his  best  speed,  but  with  all  his  haste,  the  short 
February  day  was  drawing  to  its  close,  and  the  descending 
sun  was  sinking  behind  the  mansion-house  and  its  group  of 
out-buildings  when  Ishmael  rode  into  the  front  yard,  followed 
closely  by  his  servant.  It  was  but  the  work  of  a  moment 
to  spring  from  his  horse,  throw  the  reins  to  the  professor,  bound 
up  the  steps  to  the  front  door  end  ring  the  bell.  The  door  was 
opened  by  Mr.  Middleton  in  person.  This  was  an  unprece 
dented,  and  ominous  circumstance. 

Bee's  father  looked  very  grave  as  he  held  out  his  hand, 
saying : 

"  How  do  you  do,  Ishmael  ?  I  am  glad  that  you  have  all  re 
turned  safely." 

"  How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Middleton  ?  I  hope — I  hope  that  I  find 
you  all  well  ? "  said  Ishmael,  striving  to  speak  composedly. 

"  Y — yes.  Come  into  the  library,  my  young  friend ;  I  wish 
to  speak  with  you  alone  before  you  see  any  other  member  of  the 
family,"  said  Mr.  Middleton. 

Nearly  overwhelmed  with  his  emotions,  dreading,  he  knew  not 
what,  Ishmael  followed  Mr.  Middleton  into  the  library  and 
dropped  into  the  chair  that  gentleman  pushed  towards  him. 

"Bee — Bee!  For  Heaven's  sake  tell  me?  Is  she  well?"  he 
asked. 


WHICH   IS   THE    BRIDE  ?  487 

"Y — yes,"  answered  Mr.  Middleton  hesitatingly,  gravely. 
"Bee  is  well." 

"  Good  Heaven,  sir,  can  you  not  speak  plainly  ?  We  say  of 
the  sainted  dead  that  they  are  well;  that  it  is  well  with  them. 
Oh,  tell  me,  tell  me,  is  Bee  alive  and  well  ? "  exclaimed  the 
young  man,  as  drops  of  sweat,  forced  forth  by  his  great  agony  of 
suspense,  started  from  his  brow. 

"  Yes,  yes !    Bee  is  alive  and  well." 

Ishmael  dropped  his  head  upon  his  hands  and  breathed  a  fer 
vent : 

"Thanks  be  to  God!" 

"I  have  given  you  unintentional  alarm,  I-shmael." 

"  Oh,  sir,  alarm  does  not  begin  to  express  what  I  have  suf 
fered.  You  have  wrung  my  heart.  But  let  that  pass,  sir. 
What  is  it  that  you  wished  to  gay  to  me  ? "  said  Ishmael,  rais 
ing  his  head. 

"  Take  a  glass  of  wine  first,"  said  Mr.  Middleton,  bringing  a 
decanter  and  glasses  from  a  side-table. 

"  Thank  you,  sir,  I  never  touch  it.  Pray  do  not  regard  me ; 
but  go  on  with  what  you  were  about  to  say." 

"I  will  then,  Ishmael.  And  I  hope  you  will  forgive  me  if 
I  speak  very  plainly." 

"  Speak  then,  sir ;  Bee's  father  has  a  holy  right  to  speak 
plainly  to  Bee's  betrothed,"  replied  Ishmael,  wondering  what 
portentous  communication  these  words  prefaced. 

"  It  is  as  Bee's  father,  and  no  less  as  your  friend,  Ishmael, 
that  I  do  speak.  Ishmael,"  continued  Mr.  Middleton  solemnly, 
"we  all  knew  your  strong,  your  very  strong  attachment  to 
Claudia  Merlin  before  she  became  Lady  Vincent ' 

"Well,  sir?"  said  the  young  man  gravely. 

"We  all  knew  how  nearly  heart-broken  you  were  for  a  con 
siderable  time  after  her  marriage,  and  indeed  until  you  found 
consolation  and  healing  in  the  sympathy  and  affection  of  my 
daughter  Beatrice." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Ishmael,  speaking  low  and  bending  his  head. 

"  You  possibly  mistook  this  sisterly  love  of  the  companion  of 
your  childhood  for  that  deeper  love  that  should  bind  husband 
and  wife  together  for  time  and  for  eternity.  And  you  asked 
me  to  give  you  Bee,  and  I,  rashly  perhaps,  consented — for  who 
could  foresee  the  end  ? " 

Ishmael  grew  very  pale,  but  compressed  his  lips,  and  gov 
erned  his  strong  emotions. 


488        SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

Mr.  Middleton  continued: 

"Lady  Vincent  fell  into  trouble.  She  needed  the  help  of  a 
man  with  a  strong  arm,  wise  head,  and  pure  heart.  You  were 
that  man,  Ishmael.  At  her  first  cry  for  help  wafted  across  the 
Atlantic,  you  threw  up  all  your  professional  prospects,  left  your 
office  and  your  clients  to  take  care  of  themselves,  and  flew  to 
her  relief.  It  was  to  your  wonderful  intelligence,  inspired,  no 
doubt,  by  your  pure  love,  that  she  owed  her  deliverance  from  all 
the  snares  laid  for  her  destruction.  You  have  rescued  her  and 
brought  her  safely  home.  Are  you  listening,  Ishmael  ? " 

"  I  am  listening,  sir,"  answered  the  young  man  very  gravely. 
By  this  time  he  had  begun  to  understand  the  drift  of  Mr.  Mid- 
dleton's  discourse,  and  had  recovered  his  composure,  and  hia 
look  was  somewhat  stern. 

"Well,  then,  in  a  word — Lord  Vincent  is  dead,  Claudia  is 
free,  you  have  been  her  constant  companion  since  her  widow 
hood.  Now,  then,  Ishmael,  if  in  these  days  of  close  companion 
ship  with  Lady  Vincent  your  love  for  Claudia  Merlin  has  re 
vived " 

"Mr.  Middleton,  how  can  you  speak  to  me  thus?"  inter 
rupted  Ishmael,  in  a  stern  voice,  and  with  flashing  eyes,  and  in 
very  righteous  indignation.  The  next  instant,  however,  he  re 
covered  himself.  "I  beg  your  pardon,  sir,"  he  said  sorrow 
fully.  "I  should  not  have  spoken  so  to  the  father  of  my  be 
trothed — to  my  own  father,  I  might  almost  say.  I  beg  your 
pardon  sincerely." 

"  Compose  yourself,  Ishmael,  and  listen  to  me.  I  speak  the 
words  of  truth  and  soberness,  and  you  must  hear  them.  I  say 
if  in  these  days  of  intimate  association  with  Lady  Vincent  your 
love  for  Claudia  Merlin  has  revived,  you  must  break  with 
Bee." 

"  Mr.  Middleton !  " 

"  Gently,  Ishmael !  If  this  is  so,  it  cannot  be  helped,  and 
none  of  us  blame  you.  The  human  heart  should  be  free.  Nay, 
it  will  be  free.  So " 

"  But,  Mr.  Middleton " 

u  Gently,  gently,  Ishmael,  I  beg ;  hear  me  out.  I  know  what 
you  were  about  to  say.  You  were  about  to  talk  of  your  plighted 
word,  of  fidelity,  and  of  honor.  But  I  think,  Ishmael,  that,  if 
it  is  as  I  suppose,  there  would  be  more  honor  in  frankly  stating 
the  case  to  Bee,  and  asking  for  the  release  that  she  would  surely 
give  you  than  there  would  be  in  marrying  her  while  you  IOVQ 


WHICH   IS   THE   BRIDE?  489 

another.  You  should  not  offer  her  a  divided  love.  Bee  is 
worthy  of  a  whole  heart." 

"  Do  I  not  know  it  ? "  broke  forth  Ishmael,  in  strong  emo 
tion.  "  Oh,  do  I  not  know  it  ?  And  do  I  not  give  her  my 
whole,  unwavering,  undivided  heart?  Mr.  Middleton,  look  at 
me,"  said  the  young  man,  fixing  his  truthful,  earnest,  eloquent 
eyes  upon  that  gentleman's  face.  "Look  at  me!  It  is  true 
jthat  I  once  cherished  a  boyish  passion  for  Lady  Vincent — un- 
« reasoning,  ardent,  vehement  as  such  boyish  passions  are  apt  to 
be.  But,  sir,  her  marriage  with  Lord  Vincent  killed  that  pas 
sion  quite.  It  was  dead  and  buried,  without  the  possibility  of 
resurrection.  It  was  impossible  for  me  to  love  another  man's 
wife.  Every  honorable  principle,  every  delicate  instinct  of  my 
nature  forbade  it.  On  her  marriage  day  my  boyish  flame 
burned  to  ashes;  and,  sir,  such  ashes  as  are  never  rekindled 
again.  Never,  under  any  circumstances.  It  is  true  that  I  have 
felt  the  deepest  sympathy  for  Lady  Vincent  in  her  sorrows; 
but  not  more,  sir,  than  it  is  my  nature  to  feel  for  any  suffering 
woman;  not  more,  sir,  I  assure  you,  than  I  felt  for  that  poor, 
little  middle-aged  widow  who  was  my  first  client;  not  more, 
scarcely  so  much,  as  I  felt  for  Lady  Hurstmonceux  in  her  de 
sertion.  Oh,  sir,  the  love  that  I  gave  to  Bee  is  not  the  tran 
sient  passion  of  a  boy,  it  is  the  steadfast  affection  of  a  man. 
And  since  the  blessed  day  of  our  betrothal  my  heart  has  known 
no  shadow  of  turning  from  its  fidelity  to  her.  Sir,  do  you  be 
lieve  me  ? " 

"  I  do,  I  do,  Ishmael,  and  I  beg  you  to  forgive  me  for  my 
doubts  of  you." 

"  For  myself,  I  have  nothing  to  forgive.  But,  sir,  I  hope,  I 
trust,  that  you  have  not  disturbed  Bee  with  these  doubts." 

"Well,  Ishmael,  you  know,  I  felt  it  my  duty  gradually  to 
.prepare  her  mind  for  the  shock  that  she  might  have  received 
lhad  those  old  coals  of  yours  been  rekindled." 

"  Then  Heaven  forgive  you,  Mr.  Middleton !  Where  is  she  ? 
Can  I  see  her  now  ? " 

"  Of  course  you  can,  Ishmael.  In  any  case,  you  should  have 
seen  her  once  more.  If  you  had  been  going  to  break  with  herr 
you  would  have  had  to  see  her  to  ask  from  her  own  lips  your 
release/' 

"Where  is  she — where 2" 

"  In  the  drawing  room — waiting,  like  the  good  girl  that  sb.9 
is,  to  give  you  your  freedom,  should  you  desire  it  of  her," 


490         SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

"  I  say — God  forgive  you,  Mr.  Middleton !  "  said  Ishmael, 
starting  off. 

Suddenly  he  stopped;  he  was  very  much  agitated,  and  he  did 
not  wish  to  break  in  on  Bee  in  that  disturbed  state.  He  poured 
out  a  large  glass  of  water  and  drank  it  off;  stood  still  a  minute 
to  recover  his  composure,  and  then  went  quietly  to  the  drawing 
room.  Very  softly  he  opened  the  door. 

There  she  was.  Ah,  it  seemed  ages  since  he  had  seen  her  last. 
And  now  he  stood  for  a  moment  looking  at  her,  before  he  ad 
vanced  into  the  room. 

She  was  standing  at  the  west  window,  apparently  looking 
out  at  the  wintry,  red  sunset.  Although  it  was  afternoon,  she 
still  wore  a  long,  flowing,  white  merino  morning  dress,  and  her 
bright  golden  brown  hair  was  unwound,  hanging  loose  upon  her 
shoulders.  The  beams  of  the  setting  sun,  streaming  in  full 
upon  her,  illumined  the  outlines  of  her  beautiful  head  and 
graceful  form.  A  lovely  picture  she  made  as  she  stood  there 
like  some  fair  spirit. 

Ishmael  advanced  softly  towards  her,  stood  behind  her. 

"  Bee ;  dear,  dear  Bee !  "  he  said,  putting  his  arms  around  her. 

She  turned  in  a  moment,  exclaiming : 

"  Dear  Ishmael ;  dearest  brother !  "  and  was  caught  to  his 
bosom.  She  dropped  her  head  upon  his  shoulder,  and  burst  into 
a  flood  of  tears.  She  wept  long  and  convulsively,  and  he  held 
her  closely  to  his  heart,  and  soothed  her  with  loving  words. 
It  seemed  she  did  not  take  in  the  full  purport  of  those  words, 
for  presently  she  ceased  weeping,  gently  disengaged  herself 
from  his  embrace,  and  sat  down  upon  the  corner  of  the  sofa, 
with  her  elbow  resting  on  his  arm,  and  her  head  leaning  upon 
her  hand.  And  then,  as  he  looked  at  her,  Ishmael  saw  for  the 
first  time  how  changed,  how  sadly  changed  she  was. 

Bee's  face  had  always  been  fair,  clear,  and  delicate,  but  now 
it  was  so  white,  wan,  and  shadowy  that  her  sweet  blue  eyes 
seemed  preternaturally  large,  bright,  and  hollow.  She  began 
to  speak,  but  with  an  effort  that  was  very  perceptible : 

"  Dear  Ishmael,  dearest  and  ever  dearest  brother,  I  did  not 
mean  to  weep  so;  it  was  very  foolish;  but  then  you  know  we 
girls  weep  for  almost  anything,  or  nothing;  so  you " 

Her  voice  sank  into  silence. 

" My  darling,  why  should  you  weep  at  all?  and  why  do  you  call 
me  brother  ? "  whispered  Ishmael,  sitting  down  beside  her,  and 
drawing  her  towards  him. 


WHICH  IS  THE  BRIDE?  491 

But  again  she  gently  withdrew  herself  from  him,  and  looking 
into  his  face  with  her  clear  eyes  and  sweet  smile,  she  said: 

"  Why  ?  Because,  dear  Ishmael,  though  we  shall  never  meet 
again  after  to-day — though  it  would  not  be  right  that  we  should 
• — yet  I  shall  always  hold  you  as  the  dearest  among  my  brothers. 
Oh,  did  you  think;  did  you  think  it  could  be  otherwise?  Did 
you  think  this  dispensation  could  turn  me  against  you?  Oh, 
no,  no,  no,  Ishmael;  it  could  not.  Nothing  that  you  could  do 
could  turn  me  against  you,  because  you  would  do  no  wrong. 
You  have  not  done  wrong  now,  dear;  do  not  imagine  that  any 
of  us  think  so.  We  do  not  presume  to  blame  you — none  of  us ; 
not  my  father,  not  my  mother — least  of  all  myself.  It  was " 

Again  her  sinking  voice  dropped  into  silence. 

"  Bee ;  darling,  darling  Bee,  you  do  not  know  what  you  are 
talking  about.  I  love  you,  Bee;  I  love  you,"  said  Ishmael  ear 
nestly,  again  trying  to  draw  her  to  his  heart;  but  again  she 
gently  prevented  him,  as  with  a  wan  smile,  and  in  a  low  voice, 
she  answered : 

"  I  know  you  do,  dear ;  I  never  doubted  that  you  did.  You 
always  loved  me  as  if  I  were  your  own  little  sister.  But  not 
as  you  loved  her,  Ishmael." 

«  Bee " 

"  Hush,  dear,  let  me  speak  while  I  have  strength  to  do  so.  She 
was  your  first  love,  Ishmael;  your  first  friend,  you  remember. 
With  all  her  faults — and  they  are  but  as  the  spots  upon  the  sun 
— she  is  a  glorious  creature,  and  worthy  of  you.  I  always  knew 
that  I  was  not  to  be  compared  to  her." 

"No,  Heaven  knows  that  you  were  not,"  breathed  Ishmael 
inaudibly,  as  he  watched  Bee. 

"All  your  friends,  Ishmael — all  who  love  you  and  who  are 
interested  in  your  welfare — if  they  could  influence  your  choice, 
would  direct  it  to  her,  rather  than  to  me.  You  are  making  your 
name  illustrious;  you  will  some  time  attain  a  high  station  in 
society.  And  who  is  there  so  worthy  to  bear  your  name  and 
share  your  station  as  that  queenly  woman  ? " 

"  Bee,  Bee,  you  almost  break  my  heart.  I  tell  you  I  love  you, 
Bee.  I  love  you !  " 

"  I  know  you  do,  dear ;  I  have  said  that  you  do ;  and  you  are 
distressed  about  me;  but  do  not  be  so,  dear.  Indeed  I  shall  be 
very  well;  I  shall  have  work  to  occupy  me  and  duties  to  inter 
est  me;  indeed  I  shall  be  happy,  Ishmael;  indeed  I  shall;  and 
I  shall  always  love  you,  as  a  little  sister  loves  her  dearest 


492  SELF-KAISED  J   OR,    FROM   THE   DEPTHS. 

brother;  so  take  your  trothplight  back  again,  dear,  and  with  it 
take  my  prayers  for  your  happiness,"  said  Bee,  beginning  to 
draw  the  engagement  ring  from  her  finger. 

"  Bee,  Bee,  what  are  you  doing  ?  You  will  not  listen  to  me. 
I  love  you,  Bee  I  I  love  you.  Hear  me  I  There  is  no  woman  in 
the  world  that  can  rival  you  for  an  instant  in  my  heart;  no, 
not  one;  and  there  has  never  been  one.  That  boyish  passion  I 
once  cherished  for  another,  and  that  haunts  your  imagination 
so  fatally,  was  but  a  blaze  of  straw  that  quickly  burned  out. 
It  was  a  fever  common  to  boyhood.  Few  men,  arrived  at  years 
of  discretion,  Bee,  would  like  to  marry  their  first  follies — for 
it  is  a  misnomer  to  call  them  first  loves.  Yes,  very  few  men 
would  like  to  do  so,  Bee,  least  of  all  would  I.  What  I  give  you, 
Bee,  is  a  constant,  steadfast  love,  a  love  for  time  and  for  eter 
nity.  Oh,  my  dearest,  hear  me,  and  believe  me,"  he  said,  speak 
ing  fervently,  earnestly,  forcibly. 

She  had  started  and  caught  her  breath ;  and  now  she  was  look 
ing  and  listening,  as  though  she  doubted  the  evidence  of  her 
own  eyes  and  ears. 

He  had  taken  her  hand  and  was  resetting  the  ring  more  firmly 
on  the  finger,  from  which,  indeed,  she  had  not  quite  with 
drawn  it. 

"  Do  you  believe  me  now,  dear  Bee  ? "  he  softly  inquired. 

"  Believe  you  ?  Why,  Ishmael,  I  never  doubted  your  word 
in  all  my  life.  But — but  I  cannot  realize  it.  I  cannot  bring 
it  home  to  my  heart  yet.  How  is  it  possible  it  should  be  true  ? 
How  is  it  possible  you  should  choose  me,  when  you  might  marry 
her  ? "  said  Bee,  with  large,  wondering  eyes. 

"How  is  it  possible,  my  darling  one,  that  you  should  not 
know  how  much  more  lovely  you  are  than  any  other  girl,  or 
woman,  I  have  ever  seen — except  one." 

"  Except  one,  Ishmael  ?  "  she  inquired,  with  a  faint  smile. 

"  Except  the  Countess  of  Hurstmonceux,  who  is  almost  a3 
good  and  as  beautiful  as  you.  Bee,  my  darling,  are  you  satis 
fied  now?" 

"  Oh,  Ishmael,  I  cannot  realize  it.  I  have  been  schooling  my 
heart  so  long,  so  long,  to  resign  you." 

"  So  long  ?    How  long,  my  dearest  ?  " 

"  Oh,  ever  since  we  heard  that  she  was  free.  And  that  has 
been — let  me  see — why,  indeed,  it  has  been  but  a  week.  But  oh, 
Ishmael,  it  seems  to  me  that  years  and  years  have  passed  since 
my  father  told  me  to  prepare  for  a  disappointment." 


WHICH   IS   THE   BKIDE?  493 

u Heaven  pardon  him;  I  scarcely  can,"  said  Ishmael  to  him 
self. 

"  But  is  it  indeed  true  ?  Do  you  really  love  me  best  of  all  ? 
And  can  you  be  satisfied  with  me,  with  me?" 

"  *  Satisfied '  with  you,  dearest  ?  Well,  I  suppose  that  is  the 
best  word  after  all.  Yes,  dearest ;  yes,  perfectly,  eternally  satis 
fied  with  you,  Bee,"  he  said,  drawing  her  to  his  heart.  And 
this  time  she  did  not  withdraw  herself  from  his  embrace;  but, 
with  a  soft  sob  of  joy,  she  dropped  her  head  upon  his  bosom. 

"  You  believe  my  love  now,  Bee  ? "  he  stooped  and  whispered. 

"  Oh,  yes,  yes,  yes,  Ishmael ;  and  I  am  so  happy,"  she  mur 
mured. 

"  Now  then  listen  to  me,  dearest,  for  I  have  something  to  say 
to  you.  Do  you  remember,  love,  that  day  you  came  to  me  in 
the  arbor?  I  was  sleeping  the  heavy  sleep  of  inebriation;  and 
you  wept  over  me  and  veiled  my  humbled  head  with  your  own 
dear  handkerchief,  and  glided  away  as  softly  as  you  came.  Do 
you  remember,  dear,  that  night  you  sat  up  at  your  window, 
watching  and  waiting  to  let  me  in  with  your  own  dear  hand, 
that  none  should  witness  my  humiliation  ?  Bee,  apparently  that 
was  a  compassionate  sister,  trying  to  save  from  obloquy  an  ei/r- 
ing  brother.  But  really,  Bee,  as  the  truth  stands  in  the  spiritual 
world,  it  is  this :  A  sinner  was  sleeping  upon  one  of  the  foulest 
gulfs  in  the  depths  of  perdition.  A  single  turn  in  his  sleep 
and  he  would  have  been  eternally  lost;  but  an  angel  came  from 
Heaven,  and  with  her  gentle  hand  softly  aroused  him  and  drew 
him  out  of  danger.  Bee,  I  was  that  sinner  on  the  brink  of 
eternal  woe,  and  you  that  angel  from  Heaven  who  saved  him. 
Bee,  from  that  day  I  knew  that  God  had  sent  you  to  be  my 
guardian  spirit  through  this  world.  And  when  I  forget  that 
day,  Bee,  may  the  Lord  forget  me.  And  when  I  cease  to  adore 
you  for  it,  Bee,  may  the  Lord  cease  to  love  me.  But  as  love  of 
Heaven  is  sure,  Bee,  so  is  my  love  for  you.  And  both  are  eter 
nal.  Oh,  love,  bride,  wife ;  hear  me ;  believe  me ;  love  me !  " 

"  Oh,  I  do,  I  do,  Ishmael,  and  I  am  so  happy.  And  the  very 
spring  of  my  happiness  is  in  the  thought  that  I  content  you." 

"With  an  infinite  content,  Bee." 

"  And  now  let  us  go  to  my  dear  mother ;  she  will  be  so  glad ; 
she  loves  you  so  much,  you  know,  Ishmael,"  said  Bee,  gently- 
releasing  herself — and  looking  up,  her  fair  face  now  rosy  with 
delicate  bloom  and  the  tones  of  her  voice  thrilling  with  sub 
dued  joy. 


494        SELF-RAISED;  OR,  PROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

Ishmael  arose  and  gave  her  his  arm,  and  they  passed  out  cf 
the  drawing  room  and  entered  the  morning  room,  where  Mrs. 
Middleton  sat  among  her  younger  children. 

"  Mamma,"  said  Bee,  "  we  were  none  of  us  right ;  here  is  Ish 
mael  to  speak  for  himself." 

"  I  know  it,  dear ;  your  papa  has  just  been  in  here,  and  told 
me  all  about  it.  How  do  you  do,  Ishmael?  Welcome  home, 
my  son,"  saitl  Mrs.  Middleton,  rising  and  holding  out  her  arms. 

Ishmael  warmly  embraced  Bee's  mother. 

But  by  this  time  the  children  had  gathered  around  him, 
clamorous  for  recognition.  All  children  were  very  fond  of 
Ishmael. 

While  he  was  shaking  hands  with  the  boys,  kissing  the  little 
girls,  and  lifting  the  youngest  up  in  his  arms,  Mr.  Middleton 
came  in,  and  the  evening  passed  happily. 

Ishmael  remained  one  happy  week  with  Bee,  and  then  leav 
ing  her,  recovered,  blooming,  and  happy,  he  returned  to  Wash 
ington,  where  he  was  affectionately  welcomed  by  the  two  fair 
and  gentle  old  ladies,  who  had  put  his  rooms  in  holiday  order 
to  receive  him.  He  returned  in  good  time  for  the  opening  of 
the  spring  term  of  the  circuit  court,  and  soon  found  himself 
surrounded  with  clients,  and  the  business  of  his  office  pros 
pered  greatly. 


CHAPTER  LV. 

CONCLUSION. 

How  saidst  thon! — Labor: — why  his  work  Is  pleasure} 
His  days  are  pleasantness,  his  nights  are  peace; 
He  drinks  cf  joys  that  neither  cloy,  nor  cease, 

A  well  that  gushes  blessings  without  nipasure; 

Yea,  and  to  crown  the  cup  of  pence  with  praise, 

Both  God  and  man  approve  his  works  and  ways. 

—Martin  F.   Tttpper. 

Early  in  the  spring  of  the  following  year  a  great  distinction 
awaited  Ishmael  Worth.  Young  as  he  then  was,  he  had  won  the 
admiration  and  confidence  of  the  greatest  statesmen  and  poli 
ticians  of  the  day.  And  there  were  statesmen  as  well  as  poli 
ticians  then.  "  There  were  giants  in  those  days."  And  from 
among  all  the  profound  lawyers  and  learned  judges  of  the 


CONCLUSION.  495 

* 

country,  young  Ishmael  Worth  was  selected  by  our  government 
as  their  especial  ambassador  to  the  Court  of  France,  to  settle 
with  the  French  ministry  some  knotty  point  of  international 
law  about  which  the  two  countries  were  in  danger  of  going  to 
war. 

Ishmael  was  to  sail  in  May.  His  marriage  with  Bee  had  been 
deferred  upon  different  pretexts  by  her  family;  for  not  very 
willingly  do  parents  part  with  such  a  daughter  as  Bee,  even 
to  a  husband  so  well  beloved  and  highly  esteemed  as  Ishmael; 
and  Ishmael  and  Bee  had  reluctantly,  but  dutifully,  submitted 
to  their  wishes,  but  not  again  would  Ishmael  cross  the  Atlantic 
without  Bee.  So,  on  the  1st  of  May  they  were  very  quietly 
married  in  the  parish  church  that  the  family  attended.  Judge 
Merlin  and  his  daughter  were,  of  course,  invited  to  be  present 
at  the  ceremony;  but  both  sent  excuses,  with  best  wishes  for 
the  happiness  of  the  young  pair.  Not  yet  could  Claudia  look 
calmly  on  the  marriage  of  Ishmael  and  Bee. 

On  the  7th  of  May  Ishmael  and  his  bride  sailed  from  New 
York  to  Havre,  for  Paris.  There  he  satisfactorily  concluded 
the  important  business  upon  which  he  had  been  sent,  and  it 
is  supposed  to  have  been  owing  to  his  wise  diplomacy  alone, 
under  Divine  Providence,  that  a  war  was  averted,  and  the  dis 
puted  question  settled  upon  an  amicable  and  permanent  basis. 
Having  thus  performed  his  mission,  he  devoted  himself  exclu 
sively  to  his  bride.  She  was  presented  at  the  French  court, 
where  her  beauty,  resplendent  now  with  perfect  love  and  joy, 
made  a  great  sensation,  even  in  that  court  of  beauties.  She 
went  to  some  of  the  most  select  and  exclusive  of  the  ambassa 
dors'  balls,  and  everywhere,  without  seeking  or  desiring  such 
distinction,  she  became  the  cynosure  of  all  eyes.  When  the 
season  was  over  in  Paris  they  made  the  tour  of  Europe,  seeing 
the  best  that  was  to  be  seen,  stopping  at  all  the  principal  capi 
tals,  and,  through  our  ministers,  entering  into  all  the  court 
circles;  and  everywhere  the  handsome  person,  courtly  address, 
and  brilliant  intellect  of  Ishmael,  and  the  beauty,  grace,  and 
amiability  of  Bee,  inspired  admiration  and  respect.  They  came 
last  to  England.  In  London  they  were  the  guests  of  our  minis 
ter.  Here  also  Bee  was  presented  at  court,  where,  as  else 
where,  her  rare  loveliness  was  the  theme  of  every  tongue. 

Meanwhile,  Claudia,  living  in  widowhood  and  seclusion, 
learned  all  of  Bee's  transatlantic  triumphs  through  the  "  court 
circulars  "  and  "  fashionable  intelligence "  of  the  English  pa- 


196         SELF-RAISED;  OB,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

yers;  and  through  the  gossiping  foreign  letter  writers  of  the 
New  York  journals ;  all  of  which  in  a  morbid  curiosity  she  took, 
and  in  a  self-tormenting  spirit  studied.  In  what  bitterness  of 
soul  she  read  of  all  these  triumphs!  This  was  exactly  what 
she  had  marked  out  for  herself,  when  she  sold  her  soul  to  the 
fiend,  in  becoming  the  wife  of  Lord  Vincent!  And  how  the 
fiend  had  cheated  her!  Here  she  was  at  an  obscure  country 
house,  wearing  out  the  days  of  her  youth  in  hopeless  widow 
hood  and  loneliness.  This  splendid  career  of  Bee  was  the  very 
thing  to  attain  which  she  had  sacrificed  the  struggling  young 
lawyer,  and  taken  the  noble  viscount.  And  now  it  was  that 
very  young  lawyer  who  introduced  his  bride  to  all  these  tri 
umphs;  while  that  very  viscount  had  left  her  to  a  widowhood 
of  obscurity  and  reproach!  In  eagerly,  recklessly,  sinfully 
snatching  at  these  social  honors  she  had  lost  them  all,  while 
Bee,  without  seeking  or  desiring  them,  by  simply  walking  for 
ward  in  her  path  of  love  and  duty,  had  found  them  in  her  way. 
But  for  her  own  wicked  pride  and  mental  short-sightedness, 
she  might  be  occupying  that  very  station  now  so  gracefully 
adorned  by  Bee. 

What  a  lesson  it  was !  Claudia  bowed  her  haughty  head  and 
took  it  well  to  heart.  "It  is  bitter,  it  is  bitter;  but  it  is  just, 
and  I  accept  it.  I  will  learn  of  it.  I  cannot  be  happy;  but  I 
can  be  dutiful.  I  have  but  my  father  left  in  this  world.  I  will 
devote  myself  to  him  and  to  God,"  she  said,  and  she  kept  her 
word. 

There  is  one  incident  in  the  travels  of  Ishmael  and  Bee  that 
should  be  recorded  here,  since  it  concerns  a  lady(  ?)  that  figured 
rather  conspicuously  in  this  history.  The  young  pair  were  at 
Cameron  Court,  on  a  visit  to  the  Countess  of  Hurstmonceux 
and  Mr.  Brudenell,  whom  they  found  enjoying  much  calm  do 
mestic  happiness.  Making  Cameron  Court  their  headquarters, 
Ishmael  and  Bee  went  on  many  excursions  through  the  country 
and  visited  many  interesting  places.  Among  the  rest,  they  in 
spected  the  model  Reformatory  Female  Prison  at  Ballmornock. 
While  they  were  going  through  one  of  the  workrooms,  Bee  sud 
denly  pressed  her  husband's  arm  and  whispered: 

"  Ishmael,  dear,  observe  that  poor  young  woman  sitting  there 
binding  shoes.  How  pretty  and  lady-like  she  seems,  to  be 
in  such  a  place  as  this,  poor  thing ! " 

Ishmael  looked  as  desired;  and  at  the  same  moment  the  fe 
male  prisoner  raised  her  head;  and  their  eyes  met. 


CONCLUSION.  497 

*  Come  away,  Bee,  my  darling,"  said  Ishmael,  suddenly  turn- 
his  wife  around  and  leading  her  from  the  room. 

"  She  really  seemed  to  know  you,  Ishmael,"  said  Bee,  as  they 
left  the  prison. 

"  She  did,  love ;  it  was  Mrs.  Dugald." 

Bee's  blue  eyes  opened  wide,  in  wonder  and  sorrow,  and  she 
walked  on  in  silence  and  in  thought. 

Yes,  the  female  prisoner,  in  the  coarse  gray  woolen  gown  and 
close  white  linen  cap,  who  sat  on  the  wooden  bench  binding 
shoes,  was  Katie's  "  whited  sepulcher."  She  had  been  sent  first 
to  the  Bridewell,  where  for  a  few  days  she  had  been  very  vio 
lent  and  ungovernable,  but  she  soon  learned  that  her  best 
interests  lay  in  submission;  and  for  months  afterwards  she  be- 
naved  so  well  that  at  length  she  was  sent  to  the  milder  Reforma 
tory,  to  work  out  her  ten  years  of  penal  servitude.  Here  she 
was  supplied  with  food,  clothing,  and  shelter — all  of  a  good, 
coarse,  substantial  sort.  But  she  was  compelled  to  work  very 
steadily  all  the  week,  and  to  hear  two  good  sermons  on  Sunday, 
and  as  she  had  never  in  her  life  before  enjoyed  such  excellent 
moral  training  as  this,  let  us  hope  that  the  Reformatory  really 
reformed  her. 

Ishmael  and  Bee  returned  home  in  the  early  autumn.  Al 
most  immediately  upon  his  arrival  in  Washington,  Ishmael  was 
made  district  attorney.  The  emoluments  of  this  office,  added 
to  the  income  from  his  private  practice,  brought  him  in  a 
revenue  that  justified  him  in  taking  an  elegant  little  suburban 
villa,  situated  within  its  own  beautiful  grounds  and  within  an 
easy  distance  from  his  office.  Here  he  lived  with  Bee,  as  happy, 
and  making  her  as  happy,  as  they  both  deserved  to  be. 

It  was  in  the  third  winter  of  Claudia's  widowhood  that  the 
health  of  her  father  began  to  fail.  A  warmer  climate  was 
recommended  to  him  as  the  only  condition  of  his  prolonged  life. 
He  went  to  Cuba,  attended  by  Claudia,  now  his  devoted  nurse. 
In  that  more  genial  atmosphere  his  health  improved  so  much 
that  he  entered  moderately  into  the  society  of  the  capital,  and 
renewed  some  of  his  old  acquaintance.  He  found  that  Philip 
Tourneysee  had  succeeded  at  last  in  winning  the  heart  of  the 
pretty  Creole  widow,  Senora  Donna  Eleanora  Pacheco,  to 
whom  he  had  been  married  a  year.  He  mat  again  that  magnifi 
cent  old  grandee  of  Castile,  Senor  Don  Filipo  Martinez,  Mar 
quis  de  la  Santo  Espirito,  who  at  first  sight  became  an  ardent 
admirer  of  Claudia,  and  the  more  the  Castilian  nobleman  saw 


498        SELF-RAISED;  OR,  FROM  THE  DEPTHS. 

of  this  pale  pensive  beauty,  the  more  he  admired  her;  and  the 
more  he  observed  her  devotion  to  her  father,  the  more  he  es 
teemed  her.  At  length  he  formally  proposed  to  her  and  was  ac 
cepted.  And  at  about  the  same  time  the  marquis  received  the 
high  official  appointment  he  had  been  so  long  expecting.  Clau 
dia,  in  marrying  him,  became  the  wife  of  the  Captain  General 
of  Cuba,  and  the  first  lady  on  the  island.  But,  mark  you!  she 
had  not  sought  nor  expected  this  distinction.  She  simply  founr' 
it  in  the  performance  of  her  duties ;  and  if  she  did  not  love  her 
stately  husband  with  the  ardor  of  her  youth,  she  admired  and 
revered  him.  In  his  private  life  she  made  him  a  good  wife ;  in 
his  public  career  an  intelligent  counselor;  in  everything  a 
faithful  companion.  Judge  Merlin  spent  all  his  winters  with 
them  in  Havana;  and  all  his  summers  at  Tanglewood,  taken 
care  of  by  Katie. 

A  few  words  about  the  other  characters  of  our  story. 

Old  Mrs.  Brudenell  and  her  daughters  vegetated  on  at  Bru- 
denell  Hall,  in  a  monotony  that  was  broken  by  only  three  in 
cidents  in  as  many  years.  The  first  was  the  death  of  poor 
Eleanor,  whose  worthless  husband  had  died  of  excess  some 
months  before;  the  second  incident  was  the  marriage  of  Eliza 
beth  Brudenell  to  the  old  pastor  of  her  parish,  who  repented  of 
his  celibacy  because  he  had  become  infirm,  and  took  a  wife  be 
cause  he  required  a  nurse;  and  the  third  was  the  visit  of  the 
Countess  of  Hurstmonceux  and  Mr.  Brudenell,  who  came  and 
spent  a  few  months  among  their  friends  in  America,  and  then 
returned  to  their,  delightful  home  in  Scotland. 

The  Middletons  continued  to  live  at  The  Beacon,  but  every 
winter  they  spent  a  month  at  The  Bee-Hive,  which  was  the 
name  of  the  Worths'  villa ;  and  every  summer  Ishmael,  Bee,  and 
their  lovely  little  daughter,  Nora,  passed  a  few  weeks  amid  tho 
invigorating  sea-breezes  at  The  Beacon. 

The  professor  lived  with  Ishmael,  in  the  enjoyment  of  a  vig 
orous  and  happy  old  age. 

Reuben  and  Hannah  Gray  continued  to  reside  at  Woodsido, 
cultivating  the  Tanglewood  estate  and  bringing  up  their  two 
children. 

Alfred  Burghe  was  cashiered  for  "  conduct  unworthy  of  an 
officer  and  a  gentleman,"  as  the  charge  against  him  on  his  trial 
set  forth;  and  he  and  his  brother  have  passed  into  forgetful- 
ness. 

Sally  and  Jim  were  united,  of  course,  and  lived  as  servants  at 


CONCLUSION.  499 

Tanglewood,  where  old  Katie,  as  housekeeper,  reigned  an- 
preme. 

What  else? 

Ishmael  loved,  prayed,  and  worked — worked  more  than  ever, 
for  he  knew  that  though  it  was  hard  to  win,  it  was  harder  to 

secure  fame.  He  went  on  from  success  to  success.  He  be 
canae  illustrious. 


A  FEW  OF 

GROSSET   &    DUNLAP'S 
Great  Books  at  Little  Prices 

NEW,  CLEVER.  ENTERTAINING. 

GRET :    The  Story  of  a  Pagan.    By  Beatrice  Mantle.    Illustrated 
by  C.  M.  Relyea. 


OLD  CHESTER  TALES.  By  Margaret  Deland.  Illustrated 
by  Howard  Pyle. 

A  vivid  yet  delicate  portrayal  of  characters  in  an  old  New  England  town. 

Dr.  Lavendar's  fine,  kindly  wisdom  is  brought  to  bear  upon  the  lives  of 
all,  permeating  the  whole  volume  like  the  pungent  odor  of  pine,  healthful 
and  life  giving.  "  Old  Chester  Tales  "  will  surely  be  among  the  books  that 
abide. 

THE  MEMOIRS  OF  A  BABY.    By  Josephine  Daskam.    Illus 
trated  by  F.  Y.  Cory. 
The  dawning  intelligence  of  the  baby  was  grappled  with  by  its  great  annt, 

an  elderly  maiden,  whose  book  knowledge  ofbabies  was  something  at  which 

even  the  infant  himself  winked.    A  delicious  bit  of  humor. 

REBECCA  MARY.      By  Annie  Hamilton  Donnell.     Illustrated 

by  Elizabeth  Shippen  Green. 
The  heart  tragedies  of  this  little  girl  with  no  one  near  to  share  them,  are 

told  with  a  delicate  art,  a  keen  appreciation  of  the  needs  of  the  childish 

heart  and  a  humorous  knowledge  of  the  workings  of  the  childish  mind. 

THE  FLY  ON  THE  WHEEL.    By  Katherine  Cecil  Thurston. 

Frontispiece  by  Harrison  Fisher. 
An  Irish  story  of  real  power,  perfect  in  development  and  showing  a  true 

conception  of  the  spirited  Hibernian  character  as  displayed  in  the  tragic  as 

well  as  the  tender  phases  of  life. 

THE  MAN  FROM  BRODNEY'S.    By  George  Barr  McCutcheon. 

Illustrated  by  Harrison  Fisher. 

An  island  in  the  South  Sea  is  the  setting  for  this  entertaining  tale,  and 
an  all-conquering  hero  and  a  beautiful  princess  figure  in  a  most  complicated 
plot.  One  of  Mr.  McCutcheon's  best  books. 

TOLD  BY  UNCLE  REMUS.  By  Joel  Chandler  Harris.  Illus- 
trated  by  A.  B.  Frost,  J.  M.  Conde  and  Frank  Verbeck. 

Again  Uncle  Remus  enters  the  fields  of  childhood,  and  leads  another 
little  boy  to  that  non-locatable  land  called  "Brer   Rabbit's   Laughing 
Place,"  and  again  the  quaint  animals  spring  into  active  life  and  play  their 
parts,  for  the  edification  of  a  small  but  appreciative  audience. 
THE  CLIMBER.    By  E.  F.  Benson.     With  frontispiece. 

An  unsparing  analysis  of  an  ambitious  woman's  soul— a  woman  who 

believed  that  in  social  supremacy  she  would  find  happiness,  and  who  finds 

instead  the  utter  despair  of  one  who  has  chosen  the  things  that  pass  away. 

SYNCH'S  DAUGHTER.    By  Leonard  Merrick.    Illustrated  by 

Geo.  Brehm.  ji 

A  story  of  to-day,  telling  how  a  rich  girl  acquires  ideals  of  beautiful  and 
simple  living,  and  of  men  and  love,  quite  apart  from  the  teachings  of  her 
father,  "  Old  Man  Lynch  ";of;Wall  St.  True  to  life,  clever  in  treatment 

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GROSSET  &   DUNLAP'S 

DRAMATIZED  NOVELS 

A  Few  that  are  Making  Theatrical  History 

MARY  JANE'S  PA.    By  Norman  Way.    Illustrated  with  scenes 

from  the  play. 

Delightful,  irresponsible  "  Mary  Jane's  Pa  "  awakes  one  morning  to  find 
himself  famous,  and,  genius  being  ill  adapted  to  domestic  joys,  lie  wanders 
from  home  to  work  out  his  own  unique  destiny.  One  of  the  most  humorous 
bits  of  recent  fiction. 

CHERUB  DEVINE.    By  Sewell  Ford. 

"  Cherub,"  a  good  hearted  but  not  over  refined  young  man  is  brought  in 
touch  with  the  aristocracy.  Of  sprightly  wit,  he  is  sometimes  a  merciless 
analyst,  but  he  proves  in  the  end  that  manhood  counts  for  more  than  anci 
ent  lineage  by  winning  the  love  of  the  fairest  girl  in  the  flock. 

A  WOMAN'S  WAY.     By  Charles  Somerville.    Illustrated  with 

scenes  from  the  play. 

A  story  in  which  a  woman's  wit  and  self-sacrificing  love  save  her  husband 
from  the  toils  of  an  adventuress,  and  change  an  apparently  tragic  situation 
into  one  of  delicious  comedy. 

THE  CLIMAX.    By  George  C.  Jenks. 

With  ambition  luring  her  on,  a  young  choir  soprano  leaves  the  little  village 
where  she  was  born  and  the  limited  audience  of  St.  Jude's  to  train  for  the 
opera  in  New  York  She  leaves  love  behind  her  and  meets  love  more  ardent 
but  not  more  sincere  in  her  new  environment.  How  she  works,  how  she 
studies,  how  she  suffers,  are  vividly  portrayed. 

A  FOOL  THERE  WAS.     By  Porter  Emerson  Browne.     Illus 
trated  by  Edmund  Magrath  and  W.  W.  Fawcett. 

A  relentless  portrayal  of  the  career  of  a  man  who  comes  under  the  influence 
of  a  beautiful  but  evil  woman ;  how  she  lures  him  on  and  on,  how  he 
struggles,  falls  and  rises,  only  to  fall  again  into  her  net,  make  a  story  of 
unflinching  realism. 

THE  SQUAW   MAN.     By  Julie  Opp  Faversham  and   Edwin 

Milton  Royle.    Illustrated  with  scenes  from  the  play. 
A  glowing  story,  rapid  in  action,  bright  in  dialogue  with  a  fine  courageous 
hero  and  a  beautiful  English  heroine. 

THE  GIRL  IN  WAITING.     By  Archibald  Eyre.     Illustrated 

with  scenes  from  the  play. 

A  droll  little  comedy  of  misunderstandings,  told  with  a  light  touch,  a  ven 
turesome  spirit  and  an  eye  for  human  oddities. 

THE    SCARLET   PIMPERNEL     By  Baroness  Orczy.     Illus 
trated  with  scenes  from  the  play. 

A  realistic  story  of  the  days  of  the  French  Revolution,  abounding  in 
dramatic  incident,  with  a  young  English  soldier  of  fortune,  daring,  mysteri 
ous  as  the  hero, 

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CY  WHITTAKER'S  PLACE.     By  Joseph  C.  Lincoln. 

Illustrated  by  Wallace  Morgan. 

A  Cape  Cod  story  describing  the  amusing  efforts  of  an  el 
derly  bachelor  and  his  two  cronies  to  rear  and  educate  a  little 
girl.  Full  of  honest  fun — a  rural  drama. 

THE  FORGE  IN  THE  FOREST.     By  Charles  G.  D. 

Roberts.     Illustrated  by  H.  Sandham. 
A  story  of  the  conflict  in  Acadia  after  its  conquest  by  the 
British.     A  dramatic  picture  that  lives  and  shines  with  the  in 
definable  charm  of  poetic  romance. 

A  SISTER  TO  EVANGELINE.      By   Charles  G.  D. 

Roberts.     Illustrated  by  E.  McConnell. 
Being  the  story  of  Yvonne  de  Lamourie,  and  how  she  went 
into  exile  with  the  villagers   of   Grand   Pre,     Swift  action, 
fresh  atmosphere,  wholesome  purity,  deep  passion  and  search 
ing  analysis  characterize  this  strong  novel. 

THE  OPENED  SHUTTERS.     By  Clara  Louise  Bum- 
ham.     Frontispiece  by  Harrison  Fisher. 

A  summer  haunt  on  an  island  in  Casco  Bay  is  the  back 
ground  for  this  romance.  A  beautiful  woman,  at  discord  with 
life,  is  brought  to  realize,  by  her  new  friends,  that  she  may 
open  the  shutters  of  her  soul  to  the  blessed  sunlight  of  joy  by 
casting  aside  vanity  and  self  love.  A  delicately  humorous 
work  with  a  lofty  motive  underlying  it  all. 
THE  RIGHT  PRINCESS.  By  Clara  Louise  Burnham. 

An  amusing  story,  opening  at  a  fashionable  Long  Island  re 
sort,  where  a  stately  Englishwoman  employs  a  forcible  New 
England  housekeeper  to  serve  in  her  interesting  home.  How 
types  so  widely  apart  react  on  each  others'  lives,  all  to  ulti 
mate  good,  makes  a  story  both  humorous  and  rich  in  sentiment. 
THE  LEAVEN  OF  LOVE.  By  Clara  Louise  Burn- 
ham.  Frontispiece  by  Harrison  Fisher. 

At  a  Southern  California  resort  a  world-weary  woman,  young 
and  beautiful  but  disillusioned,  meets  a  girl  who  has  learned 
the  art  of  living — of  tasting  life  in  all  its  richness,  opulence  and 
joy.  The  story  hinges  upon  the  change  wrought  in  the  soul 
of  the  blase  woman  by  this  glimpse  into  a  cheery  life. 

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QUINCY  ADAMS  SAWYER.  A  Picture  of  New 
England  Home  Life.  With  illustrations  by  C.  W. 
Reed,  and  Scenes  Reproduced  from  the  Play. 

One  of  the  best  New  England  stories  ever  written.  It  is 
full  of  homely  human  interest  *  *  *  there  is  a  wealth  of  New 
England  village  character,  scenes  and  incidents  *  *  *  forcibly, 
vividly  and  truthfully  drawn.  Few  books  have  enjoyed  a 
greater  sale  and  popularity.  Dramatized,  it  made  the  great 
est  rural  play  of  recent  times. 

THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES  OF  QUINCY 
ADAMS  SAWYER.  By  Charles  Felton  Pidgin. 
Illustrated  by  Henry  Roth. 

All  who  love  honest  sentiment,  quaint  and  sunny  humor, 
and  homespun  philosophy  will  find  these  "  Further  Adven 
tures"  a  book  after  their  own  heart. 

HALF  A  CHANCE.  By  Frederic  S.  Isham.  Illus 
trated  by  Herman  Pfeifer. 

The  thrill  of  excitement  will  keep  the  reader  in  a  state  of 
suspense,  and  he  will  become  personally  concerned  from  the 
start,  as  to  the  central  character,  a  very  real  man  who  suffers, 
dares — and  achieves  I 

VIRGINIA  OF  THE  AIR  LANES.  By  Herbert 
Quick.  Illustrated  by  William  R.  Leigh. 

The  author  has  seized  the  romantic  moment  for  the  airship 
novel,  and  created  the  pretty  story  of  "  a  lover  and  his  lass  " 
contending  with  an  elderly  relative  for  the  monopoly  of  the 
pkies.  An  exciting  tale  of  adventure  in  midair. 

THE  GAME  AND  THE  CANDLE.     By  Eleanor  M. 

Ingram.    Illustrated  by  P.  D.  Johnson. 
The  hero  is  a  young  American,  who,  to  save  his  family  from 
poverty,  deliberately  commits  a  felony.    Then  follow  his  cap 
ture  and  imprisonment,  and  his  rescue  by  a  Russian  Grand 
Duke.    A  stirring  story,  rich  in  sentiment. 

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BRUVVER  JIM'S  BABY.     By  Philip  Verrill  Mighels. 

An  uproariously  funny  story  of  a  tiny  mining  settlement  in  the 
West,  which  is  shaken  to  the  very  roots  by  the  suddenpossession 
of  a  baby,  found  on  the  plains  by  one  of  its  residents.  The  town  if 
as  disreputable  a  spot  as  the  gold  fever  was  ever  responsible  for, 
and  the  coming  of  that  baby  causes  the  upheaval  of  every  rooted 
tradition  of  the  place.  Its  christening,  the  problems  of  its  toys  and 
its  illness  supersede  in  the  minds  of  the  miners  all  thought  of  earthy 
treasure. 

THE  FURNACE  OF  GOLD.  By  Philip  Verrill  Mighelsr 
author  of  "Bruvver  Jim's  Baby."  Illustrations  by  J.  N. 
Marchand. 

An  accurate  and  informing  portrayal  of  scenes,  types,  and  condi 
tions  of  the  mining  districts  in  modern  Nevada. 

The  book  is  an  out-door  story,  clean,  exciting,  exemplifying  no 
bility  and  courage  of  character,  and  bravery,  and  heroism  in  the  sort 
of  men  and  women  we  all  admire  and  wish  to  know. 
THE  MESSAGE.     By  Louis  Tracy.  Illustrations  by  Joseph 
C.  Chase. 

A  breezy  tale  of  how  a  bit  of  old  parchment,  concealed  in  a  figure 
head  from  a  sunken  vessel,  comes  into  the  possession  of  a  pretty 
girl  and  an  army  man  during  regatta  week  in  the  Isle  of  Wight. 
This  is  the  message  and  it  enfolds  a  mystery,  the  development  of 
which  the  reader  will  follow  with  breathless  interest. 

THE  SCARLET  EMPIRE.  By  David  M.  Parry.  Illus 
trations  by  Hermann  C.  Wall. 

A  young  socialist,  weary  of  life,  plunges  into  the  sea  and  awakes 
in  the  lost  island  of  Atlantis,  known  as  the  Scarlet  Empire,  where 
a  social  democracy  is  in  full  operation,  granting  every  man  a  living 
but  limiting  food,  conversation,  education  and  marriage. 

The  hero  passes  through  an  enthralling  love  affair  and  other  ad 
ventures  but  finally  returns  to  his  own  New  York  world. 
THE  THIRD  DEGREE.    By  Charles  Klein  and  Arthur 
Hornblow.     Illustrations  by  Clarence  Rowe. 

A  novel  which  exposes  the  abuses  in  '  this  country  of  the  police 
system. 

The  son  of  an  aristocratic  New  York  family  marries  a  woman 
socially  beneath  him,  but  of  strong,  womanly  qualities  that,  later 
on,  save  the  man  from  the  tragic  consequences  of  a  dissipated  life. 

The  wife  believes  in  his  innocence  and   her  wit  and  good  sense 
help  her  to  win  against  the  tremendous  odds  imposed  by  law. 
THE  THIRTEENTH   DISTRICT.    By  Brand  Whitlock. 

A  realistic  western  story  of  love  and  politics  and  a  searching  study 
of  their  influence  on  character.  The  author  shows  with  extraordi 
nary  vitality  of  treatment  the  tricks,  the  heat,  the  passion,  the  tu 
mult  of  the  political  arena,  the  triumph  and  strength  of  love. 

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THE  MUSIC  MASTER.    By  Charles  Klein.      Illustrated 

by  John  Rae. 

This  marvelously  vivid  narrative  turns  upon  the  search  of  a  Ger 
man  musician  in  JN  ew  York  for  his  little  daughter.  Mr.  Klein  ha? 
jrell  portrayed  his  pathetic  struggle  with  poverty,  his  varied  expe 
riences  in  endeavoring  to  meet  the  demands  of  a  public  not  trained 
to  an  appreciation  of  the  classic,  and  his  final  great  hour  when,  in 
the  rapidly  shifting  events  of  a  big  city,  his  little  daughter,  now  a 
beautifnl  young  woman,  is  brought  to  his  very  door.  A  superb  bit 
of  fiction,  palpitating  with  the  life  of  the  great  metropolis.  The 
play  in  which  David  Warfield  scored  his  highest  success. 

DR.    LAVENDAR'S    PEpPLE.      By    Margaret   Deland. 

Illustrated  by  Lucius  Hitchcock. 

Mrs.  Deland  won  so  many  friends  through  Old  Chester  Tales 
that  this  volume  needs  no  introduction  beyond  its  title.  The  lova 
ble  doctor  is  more  ripened  in  this  later  book,  and  the  simple  come 
dies  and  tragedies  of  the  old  village  are  told  with  dramatic  charm. 

OLD  CHESTER  TALES.  By  Margaret  Deland.  Illustrated 

by  Howard  Pyle. 

Stories  portraying  with  delightful  humor  and  pathos  a  quaint  peo 
ple  in  a  sleepy  old  town.    Dr.  Lavendar,  a  very  human  and  lovable 
"preacher,"  is  the  connecting  link  between  these  dramatic  stories 
from  life. 
HE  FELL  IN  LOVE  WITH  HIS  WIFE.    By  E.  P.  Roe. 

With  frontispiece. 

The  hero  is  a  farmer — a  man  with  honest,  sincere  views  of  life. 
Beieft  of  his  wife,  his  home  is  cared  for  by  a  succession  of  domes 
tics  of  varying  degrees  of  inefficiency  until,  from  a  most  unpromis 
ing  source,  comes  a  young  woman  who  not  only  becomes  his  wife 
but  commands  his  respect  and  eventually  wins  his  love.  A  bright 
and  delicate  romance,  revealing  on  both  sides  a  love  that  surmounts 
all  difficulties  and  survives  the  censure  of  friends  as  well  as  the  bit 
terness  of  enemies. 

THE  YOKE.    By  Elizabeth  Miller. 

i     Against  the  historical  background  of  the  days  when  the  children 
of  Israel  were  delivered  from  the  bondage  of  Egypt,  the  author  has 
sketched  a  romance  of  compelling  charm.    A  biblical  novel  as  great 
as  any  since  "  Ben  Hur." 
SAUL  OF  TARSUS.    By  Elizabeth  Miller.     Illustrated  by 

Andre*  Castaigne. 

The  scenes  of  this  story  are  laid  in  Jerusalem,  Alexandria,  Rome 
and  Damascus.  The  Apostle  Paul,  the  Martyr  Stephen,  Herod 
Agrippa  and  the  Emperors  Tiberius  and  Caligula  are  among  the 
mighty  figures  that  move  through  the  pages.  Wonderful  descrip 
tions,  and  a  love  story  of  the  purest  and  noblest  type  mark  this 
most  remarkable  religious  romance. 

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HAPPY  HAWKINS.    By  Robert  Alexander  Wason.    Illus 
trated  by  Howard  Giles. 

A  ranch  and  cowboy  novel.  Happy  Hawkins  tells  his  own  story 
with  such  a  fine  capacity  for  knowing  how  to  do  it  and  with  so  much 
humor  that  the  reader's  interest  is  held  in  surprise,  then  admiration 
and  at  last  in  positive  affection. 

COMRADES.    By  Thomas  Dixon,  Jr.    Illustrated  by  C.  D. 

Williams. 

The  locale  of  this  story  is  in  California,  where  a  few  socialists 
establish  a  little  community. 

The  author  leads  the  little  band  along  the  path  of  disillusion 
ment,  and  gives  some  brilliant  flashes  of  light  on  one  side  of  an 
important  question. 

TONO-BUNGAY.    By  Herbert  George  Wells. 

The  hero  of  this  novel  is  a  young  man  who,  through  hard  work, 
earns  a  scholarship  and  goes  to  London. 

Written  with  a  frankness  verging  on  Rousseau's,  Mr.  Wells  still 
uses  rare  discrimination  and  the  border  line  of  propriety  is  never 
crossed.     An  entertaining  book  with  both  a  story  and  a  moral,  and 
without  a  dull  page — Mr.  Wells's  most  notable  achievement. 
A  HUSBAND  BY  PROXY.    By  Jack  Steele. 

A  young  criminologist,  but  recently  arrived  in  New  York  city, 
is  drawn  into  a  mystery,  partly  through  financial  need  and  partly 
through  his  interest  in  a  beautiful  woman,  who  seems  at  times  the 
simplest  child  and  again  a  perfect  mistress  of  intrigue.  A  baffling 
detective  story. 

LIKE   ANOTHER  HELEN.    By  George   Horton.    Illus 
trated  by  C.  M.  Relyea. 

Mr.  Horton  s  powerful  romance  stands  in  a  new  field  and  brings 
an  almost  unknown  world  in  reality  before  the  reader — the  world 
of  conflict  between  Greek  and  Turk  on  the  Island  of  Crete.  The 
"  Helen  "  of  the  story  is  a  Greek,  beautiful,  desolate,  defiant — pure 
as  snow. 

There  is  a  certain  new  force  about  the  story,  a  kind  of  master- 
craftsmanship  and  mental  dominance  that  holds  the  reader. 
THE     MASTER    OF    APPLEBY.     By    Francio    Lynde. 
Illustrated  by  T.  de  Thulstrup. 

"A  novel  tale  concerning  itself  in  part  with  the  great  struggle  in 
the  two  Carolinas,  but  chiefly  with  the  adventures  therein  of  two 
gentlemen  who  loved  one  and  the  same  lady. 

A  strong,  masculine  and  persuasive  story. 
A  MODERN  MADONNA.    By  Caroline  Abbot  Stanley. 

A  story  of  American  life,  founded  on  facts  as  they  existed  some 
years  ago  in  the  District  of  Columbia.  The  theme  is  the  maternal 
love  and  splendid  courage  of  a  woman. 

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WHEN  A  MAN  MARRIES.  By  Mary  Roberts  Rinehart 
Illustrated  by  Harrison  Fisher  and  Mayo  Bunker. 

A  young  artist,  whose  wife  had  recently  divorced  him,  finds  that 
a  visit  is  due  from  his  Aunt  Selina,  an  elderly  lady  having  ideas 
about  things  quite  apart  from  the  Bohemian  set  in  which  her 
nephew  is  a  shining  light.  The  way  in  which  matters  are  tempo 
rarily  adjusted  forms  the  motif  of  the  story. 

A  farcical  extravaganza,  dramatized  under  the  title  of  "Seven  Days" 

THE  FASHIONABLE    ADVENTURES   OF  JOSHUA 

CRAIG.     By  David  Graham  Phillips.     Illustrated. 
A  young  westerner,   uncouth  and   unconventional,  appears  in 
political  and  social  life  in  Washington.     He  attains  power  in  poli 
tics,  and  a  young  woman  of  the  exclusive  set  becomes  his  wife,  un 
dertaking  his  education  in  social  amenities. 

"  DOC."  GORDON.  By  Mary  E.  Wilkins-Freeman.  Illus 
trated  by  Frank  T.  Merrill. 

Against  the  familiar  background  of  American  town  life,  the 
author  portrays  a  group  of  people  strangely  involved  in  a  mystery. 
"Doc.  Gordon,  the  one  physician  of  the  place,  Dr.  Elliot,  his 
assistant,  a  beautiful  woman  and  her  altogether  charming  daughter 
are  all  involved  in  the  plot.  A  novel  of  great  interest. 

HOLY  ORDERS.     By  Marie  Corelli. 

A  dramatic  story,  in  which  is  pictured  a  clergyman  in  touch  with 
society  people,  stage  favorites,  simple  village  folk,  powerful  finan 
ciers  and  others,  each  presenting  vital  problems  to  this  man  "  in 
holy  orders  " — problems  that  we  are  now  struggling  with  in  America. 
KATRINE.  By  Elinor  Macartney  Lane.  With  frontispiece. 

Katrine,  the  heroine  of  this  story,  is  a  lovely  Irish  girl,  of  lowly 
birth,  but  gifted  with  a  beautiful  voice. 

The  narrative  is  based  on  the  facts  of  an  actual  singer's  career, 
and  the  viewpoint  throughout  is  a  most  exalted  one. 

THE    FORTUNES    OF  FIFI.    By  Molly  Elliot  Seawell. 

Illustrated  by  T.  de  Thulstrup. 

A  story  of  life  in  France  at  the  time  of  the  first  Napoleon.  Fifi. 
a  glad,  mad  little  actress  of  eighteen,  is  the  star  performer  in  a  third 
rate  Parisian  theatre.  A  story  as  dainty  as  a  Watteau  painting. 

SHE  THAT  HESITATES.  By  Harris  Dickson.  Illus- 
trated  by  C.  W.  Relyea. 

The  scene  of  this  dashing  romance  shifts  from  Dresden  to  St. 
Petersburg  in  the  reign  of  Peter  the  Great,  and  then  to  New  Orleans. 

The  hero  is  a  French  Soldier  of  Fortune,  and  the  princess,  who 
hesitates — but  you  must  read  the  story  to  know  how  she  that  hesitates 
may  be  lost  and  yet  saved. 

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